The Amnesia Machine
by lookskindagreyout
Summary: To tell a dream, one must simply dream it. But to tell a nightmare, one must live it. An AU of a precariously different sort.
1. Chapter 1

Oh, um, wow. What you are about to read(hopefully) is actually a trial run of something I'm testing. You lovely subject, you. Accordingly, if it goes smoothly, I will continue it, as I'm hoping that it does not bend the rules of this site too terribly much. In bending the rules, I mean that when this was first written, it was completely in IM script format, (in the tradition of the Russian writer Victor Pelevin) which is, as I'm sure you know, a no-no for posting. Having overhauled the poor thing, It takes something desired from the experience, having it in the 'traditional' format, but I'm hoping it still gets the job done.

The title is a dedication to the a writer/artist Shaun Tan, who writes and illustrates the book 'Tales from Outer Suburbia'. I highly recommend his books- but don't be dissuaded by their appearance. I assure you that, while they hold a certain innocent charm, they are not for children.

_*for the pure tradition of the matter, I must tell you that I do not own Fringe. What I write is something altogether… sticky._

1.

ONLINE. TIME ELAPSED: 00:00:00.

It was dark, when she awoke. She would later find, in the prolonged duration she spent in this hellish purgatory, that it was always dark. They kept it that way, so as to blind you, after too long. Complete dependence was their game, really.

The only light that came into focus after the drugs started to wear away was the dull blue glow that shown across the low ceiling, from the distant computer screen across the tiny room. She was lying, she came to realize, on an old twin-sized army cot in the corner, near one of the two doors. Slowly, she sat up, her damaged retinas struggling to take in the dim, bland surroundings. The only thing that drew her attention was the computer and keyboard, mounted securely to a desk against the whitewashed wall.

She rolled from the bed, panting with spent effort as her vision swam. On all fours, she crawled slowly across the beige carpet, collapsing a few times only to regain conscious after what could have been any length of time. At last, she reached the desk, pulling herself into the swiveled office chair, anchored fast to the floor. She squinted blurrily at the print, and raised her fingers, typing her message.

**:Boolean:**

_Hello is anyone there? Please help me._

Astrid's head dropped to the desk slowly, and she slipped into a murky and unexplainably frightening slumber.

xXx

He'd woken up in a lot of places, in a lot of bad situations. But none had been quite this strange, or as alarming. He would shortly conclude that it was simply hell.

He pounded against the scratched steel door, only to find that the ingress was sealed, and would not budge, not from the inside, anyway. He yelled at the door, cursed at it, or at anyone that might lay beyond. But only ringing silence in the dim twilight remained. At last he turned to the glowing computer screen, which he had tried to smash, to no avail, and he took a seat, reading the message that had arrived before he had woken in this place. He placed his fingers to the keys, drumming out his response.

**Utopianserpent**

_Yes I am. RU still there?_

Watching intently, Peter sat back, praying silently that someone was out there, that someone was listening. He did not know then how many hundreds there were, then.

xXx

Thank god, a response! Astrid had to calm herself to type her next message articulately, feeling slightly less nauseous after the unnamable passage of time;

**:Boolean:**

_Yes. What took you so long? Who are you?_

xXx

Peter frowned. This was not someone of authority, someone who had control of his strange prison. They may have been a captive, the same as he, but at least they might know something more than he did…

**Utopianserpent**

_My name is xxx. Who are you? Where am I? what is going on?_

xXx

Astrid blinked. Someone was preventing this stranger from posting their name. Or was it on purpose, to allude her? She found no harm in stating her discovery, as this individual might not have known as much about computers as she did.

**:Boolean:**

_IDK. I think something is interfering with you posting your name. my name is xxx._

xXx

Anger bent Peter's features. So he had communication, but for what? It was obvious that someone was preventing them from sharing any sort of useful information. Perhaps it was a mockery. His frustration passed into his comments;

**Utopianserpent**

_Someone is screwing around. What the hell am I doing here?!_

xXx

Nausea shivered her hunched form in the chair, and she struggled to not become sick. Taking a few deep breaths of the heavily filtered, dead air, Astrid responded the way she had been taught to, when dealing with a citizen that was upset.

**:Boolean:**

_Calm down, serpent. Tell me where you are, maybe I can find you._

xXx

His eyes widened, and Peter dared to hope as looked around, and hurriedly described his surroundings:

**Utopianserpent**

_IDK. I just woke up in a room with nothing but a bed and a computer. There's only one door- no, two._

xXx

Astrid nodded bitterly. A room probably identical to her own, meaning that there might be no hope for either of them. But if this person had more access than she did…

**:Boolean:**

_Is one to a bathroom and the other one locked?_

xXx

Peter sighed, biting the inside of his cheek. He typed his damning reply, with a bit of what he had learned, regardless of whether or not this person had attempted such things themselves.

**Utopianserpent**

_Yes. I beat the hell out of the locked one, I think I hear something hollow behind it, maybe a hallway or another room._

xXx

Astrid looked around the room, feeling the painful tingling of hopeless panic rising in her chest;

**:Boolean:**

_Christ, I'm in the same place._

xXx

Peter found that the computer desk before him was devoid of a mouse or touch pad. But he knew enough about the layout of a keyboard, and its shortcut keys, that he could get around alright. He frowned with alarmed confusion.

**Utopianserpent**

_The browser won't let me leave this page. Yours too?_

xXx

She'd tried that a while ago, and, again, to no avail. They seemed to be stuck here.

**:Boolean:**

_Yes. The access seems to be limited to the use of an administrator. I was already logged on when I woke up here. Wherever here is._

xXx

His cynicism returned to him- he was amazed that it had been displaced this long, as it had been his only reliable partner in for so many years-

**Utopianserpent**

_You sound like you know a bit about this, boo._

xXx

Astrid could understand his suspicion. a lot of people thought it was strange for someone like her to have such a knowledge of circuitry and its works, and she frankly explained:

**:Boolean:**

_I work with computers. I'm a xxx._

xXx

Ah, another block. Crap. Would there be anything useful, from this odd conversation?

**Utopianserpent**

_I guess we can't tell each other about our professions. But the name 'Boolean' has to do with computers, doesn't it?_

xXx

Astrid smiled. Whoever this was certainly knew more than they let on. Perhaps they even knew more about where they were.

**:Boolean:**

_Yes. 'Boolean' is a system of logic used to hone a search on the internet. I didn't choose the name, I was logged on like this. What do you do?_

xXx

Peter knew full well what 'Utopian Serpent' meant. It meant that they knew how he took people who had a perfect existence and got them cast from Eden. He did not like how uncomfortably naked it made him feel, wearing such an admittance on his sleeve.

**Utopianserpent**

_I didn't choose mine either. In less words, I'll just say that I do a lot of things._

xXx

Astrid swallowed.

**:Boolean:**

_Bad things?_

xXx

Peter sat up, his chin pointing with defiance. He did not think that what he did was wrong. If people were blind enough to their own ways that they did not know that what they did led to self destruction, they deserved what happened to them. He might even be considered a savior, for stopping them from squandering themselves in meaningless pursuits. He summed his thoughts.

**Utopianserpent**

_That would depend on your point of view._

xXx

She'd been waiting, reading along this soundless conversation patiently, judging and calculating while setting her uncertainties and fears aside as she had done for so many years, coolly gathering her information for the right time to strike. Not a skill that she thought would come in handy, in such a nightmarish situation, but apparently the training she had instilled upon herself did more than keep her out of the shit during court.

Between the nausea and fainting spells, Olivia had drawn her own conclusions and opinions; she'd been drugged with chloroform, and she did not like this 'serpent'. And now she knew why. She leaned over in her chair, at last deciding to announce herself, and perhaps even a bit of a challenge.

**Pureffect.45**

_So you're a criminal._

xXx

Astrid blinked. A third person? Someone who could help them? No. Whoever was holding them knew about them and would not have been surprised at the criminal intentions of their captive. It was probably another soul trapped, sharing a small room and painful uncertainty much like her own. Still, introductions were a must.

**:Boolean:**

_Who are you?_

xXx

Olivia did not hesitate to state her status and offer an opinion on their possible whereabouts.

**Pureffect.45**

_I've been following the thread. I'm also in one of these rooms. Maybe we're in a hotel._

xXx

Peter did not have to see someone not to like them. Already Pure was getting on his nerves, with the kind of holier-that-thou attitude that he'd gotten from everyone growing up. He couldn't stand it.

**Utopianserpent**

_Who said you could join us?_

xXx

Olivia glared at the screen in distaste. Grand, an idiot who thought they were going to waste time with petty arguments rather than do something productive. Like she'd never met anyone like _that _before, in her years of being considered incapable, at the bureau, simply because of her gender.

**Pureffect.45**

_Who said I couldn't?_

xXx

Astrid rolled her eyes. These two were going to be a handful, she could already tell. Be she had to keep things together, with the menacing shadow of panic forever creeping up in her chest. She had to keep order, if there was such a thing, in this place;

**:Boolean:**

_Calm down both of you. Pure, you said you were in a room identical to the two of ours_.

xXx

Olivia decided to ignore her aggressor, a convenience she was half thankful for, in this place.

**Pureffect.45**

_Yes. I see that we can't post names or jobs. So I'm a serial killer named Fred._

xXx

They did _not _just say that! Humor, for chrissake? How tasteless could one get? Peter ran his fingers through his hair as he sat back, chuckling with disbelief as he realized why he did not like Pure. He typed his response to the assault against himself from this unpleasant, judgmental hypocrite;

**Utopianserpent**

_You're a riot. .45 is a gun caliber, so you have to be a cop._

xXx

A smart crook. Well, she never.

**Pureffect.45**

_Surprisingly observant for the hamburglar._

xXx

Jesus, at each other's throats again. This was getting nowhere, and Astrid had to see a stop to it before it escalated, and nothing would be accomplished. Not that much could be, considering.

**:Boolean:**

_Pure, stop. So we can't tell anything important about each other, fine. What can we tell?_

xXx

Peter would ignore the cop, for now. What was the point? Beating a dead horse, trying to talk intellectually with a fed.

**Utopianserpent**

_What about age? Gender?_

xXx

Astrid exclaimed;

**:Boolean:**

_Good, serpent. I'll go. I'm xxx years old, and female._

xXx

Olivia considered,

**Purefect.45**

_No age, I guess. I'm also female._

xXx

Peter snorted; the story of his life. Angry woman with a superiority complex hacking on him for things they knew nothing about. He briefly wondered why he hadn't guessed that she was a girl in the first place.

**Utopianserpent**

_Obviously. Dirty Harriet, here._

xXx

Hells bells. Olivia found herself captive with a misogynistic, cop-hating moron. Life was simply _wonderful_.

**Pureffect.45**

_And you're so perfectly male._

xXx

Astrid shook her head. These two were starting to become a real pain in the ass. But, as always, she sighed, setting her annoyance aside and striving to create a formal exchange of information. The less time these two had to bicker, the better.

**:Boolean:**

_Enough. So the two of us, and serpent. The ratio of gender obviously has nothing to do with anything. What if we just said if we were young or old?_

xXx

Peter paused. That may have worked, but…

**Utopianserpent**

_What's your basis of comparison?_

xXx

Astrid blinked, shifting to pull her bare feet up, into the chair. She was not wearing the clothes that she remembered wearing, when she could remember- now, she wore a simple white tank, and grey trousers that zippered in the front, with a pocket at the knee on the outside of each leg. She assumed that her companions wore something similar, and wondered what exactly she was to place in the pockets.

**:Boolean:**

_Xxx and under for young, xxx and over for old._

xXx

Olivia sighed with slight frustration, pointing out the obvious;

**Pureffect.45**

_That won't work. Maybe if we can't post it, it isn't vital to getting out of here._

xXx

He rolled over, nothing in particular waking him from his fitful slumber. He sat up and scratched his bare chest, looking around a bit for his undershirt. Humming tunelessly, Walter pulled it over his shoulders, unwinding the sheets from himself as he swung his legs over the side of the cot and stood. His fingers traced along the wall as he made his way to the bathroom, and the once smooth surface was marred with scratches he'd made long ago. Two of many things would surface, when his cage was unearthed; a collage of senseless pictures and numbers that spanned the walls and ceiling, and the fact that he was nearly blind.

Walter washed his hands and face in the sink slowly, and then created a bowl with his fingers, lowering his lips to drink deeply from the notch at the bottom of his joined palms. He sighed, wiping his lips on the back of his arm as her turned off the faucet. In a lightheaded daze, he shuffled back into the room, slumping back down on the cot and bowing his head with a sigh. Perhaps he would go back to sleep.

He was slow to register that his computer screen was whirring with activity. He frowned, and shook his head, squinting. At last, he got to his feet, stumbling over to flounce into his chair. He spun in it a few times, lost the already stale novelty, and read the sentences of print, his eyes widening with interest. His brows high on his forehead, Walter decided to say hello.

**glassmouth**

_Oh, now this is exiting. There are people here, now? Hello? Ola? Guten Tag? Bonjour? Aloha? Ciao? Konnichiwa?_

xXx

Peter frowned flatly at the screen. An interruption, and a distraction. Just how many people were there, down here? And was each as useless as the next, when it came to getting out? It was unknown to him, then, that he was addressing the very reason that they were imprisoned.

**Utopianserpent**

_Grand. Who's this, now?_

Peter waited for a response, and after a few minutes, he began to wonder if his post had been inputted. He tried again.

**Utopianserpent**

_Hello?_

More virtual silence. Pure and Boo were not posting, hoping to hear with this absent newcomer. Peter was getting annoyed- they interrupted and left? No. No one could leave, so they were just being _rude_.

**Utopianserpent**

_Why aren't you responding?!_

xXx

Astrid took the reasoning standpoint as they waited.

**:Boolean:**

_Maybe they're a slow at the keyboard._

xXx

Walter exclaimed. They were talking to him? Ah, yes, best apologize, he didn't want to seem rude. He hadn't meant it, it was just that…

**glassmouth**

_No. I'm sorry, I've only just woken, and I'm a bit slow to register. Low blood pressure, all that._

xXx

This person seemed calm, which was both strange and considerably alarming, given their circumstances.

**:Boolean:**

_Have you read the rest of the thread?_

xXx

Walter paused, and used the cruiser to move to the top of the page. He replied frankly, in the fact that he was unused to such activity on the machine that had become a black hole in his mind; simply another wall, although intellectually, this time.

**glassmouth**

_No, not yet. I was simply surprised to find anyone here, I've been alone here for the longest time._

xXx

It would take too much time to explain everything again, and Olivia summed the importance and urgency of the situation before her companions could;

**Pureffect.45**

_We need to know anything you can tell us._

xXx

Walter had finished the thread in seconds, quietly committing the typed conversation to memory. A meek tech ex, a lonely young man, and a lonely young woman. Pups growing into their ears, he compared. He briefly typed out the information they required with a small smile.

**glassmouth**

_Ah. I am male, and judging by the way you seem to address one another, I am most definitely old._

xXx

Peter reconsidered. It was childish, but he suddenly felt as if things had been evened out, with the introduction of another man, and an older one, at that, whom would perhaps see Peter's way of things, given his years of experience and sensibility. Peter was very, very wrong. Smugly, he posted his comment.

**Utopianserpent**

_So two guys, two girls. Seems more fair, now._

xXx

Olivia nearly laughed at how easy it was to bruise the ego of a man, yet admired how easily they were repaired. But obviously this newcomer would have matured enough to see her way of things. Of course, Olivia, as well, was very, very wrong.

**Pureffect.45**

_Aw, were we ganging up on you?_

xXx

Astrid blew a stray curl from her eyes in downright annoyance. Perhaps this older gentleman would help her keep these two at bay, and the petty squabbling to a minimum. She may have been the most incorrect of them all.

**:Boolean:**

_Let's try to keep the bickering to a minimum, please._

xXx

Peter had been trying to decipher as much as he cold from the old man's comments, and was alarmed to find that while they openly seemed reveling to his state, they were oddly cryptic in any aspect of his opinions. This person was either very smart, and rivaled his own sense of cynicism, or very empty minded and essentially very stupid. Peter would never truly discover which.

**Utopianserpent**

_And 'glassmouth'? are you a dentist, or something?_

xXx

Walter looked around the empty room unseeingly, wondering if perhaps he'd lost it completely, and was typing to himself again. But _he _would know why _he _was called 'Glassmouth', wouldn't he…? The logic, however flawed, seemed sound enough.

**glassmouth**

_Alas, no, I wish. 'glassmouth' is a joke that was passed around about me a great many years ago, when I used to xxx at xxx. It was said that I could metaphorically 'spit glass', to deride my opposition during lectures and debates._

xXx

Olivia had heard something of the kind before, when she was assigned to security- a bodyguard. The dark days, she called them, before she had become a detective.

**Pureffect.45**

_So you're a politician._

xXx

Walter felt mildly offended, although it probably would have been better for everyone if he _had _been a politician. Not to mention the better paycheck.

**glassmouth**

_Heavens no. if I leave a mark on this world, it will be with knowledge, not warheads._

xXx

Peter smirked. A good guess that couldn't have been farther from the truth. But perhaps she wasn't as blind and government-controlled as he had first though. He might be able to mock her into her A-game.

**Utopianserpent:**

_Don't be stupid. He's a teacher or something._

xXx

Walter swallowed.

**glassmouth**

…_or something._

xXx

A teacher? What could whoever was holding them want with a _teacher_? Astrid knew the answer lay somewhere in their combined knowledge.

**:Boolean:**

_Glass, you said you'd been here for a long time. How long?_

xXx

Walter froze. Good grief, how long had it been? He was disheartened and slightly frightened to find that he did not know. Everything that lie outside of these walls… did it even exist? He responded as best he could.

**glassmouth**

_I can't say for certain. Years. Perhaps decades._

xXx

The panic Astrid had been fighting back was threatening to burst out, at this confession, and she swallowed back her dread, and typed.

**:Boolean:**

_Jesus. is there a way out of here? Is your room similar to ours?_

xXx

Olivia frowned.

**Pureffect.45**

_If there were a way out, don't you think he wouldn't be here?_

xXx

Peter's mind snapped to attention, his brilliance forever laced with suspicion;

**Utopianserpent**

_Unless he's the one keeping us here._

xXx

Walter felt a frown twitch the corner of his mouth, and he rolled his eyes before replying after a casually dismissing period of time.

**glassmouth**

_Don't be ridiculous. My room is certain to be a replica of yours, there could be hundreds of them, in this place. It's just that no one's been around for me to talk to in a very long time._

xXx

Astrid swallowed again, asking for something she really didn't want to know.

**:Boolean:**

_There have been others?_

xXx

Walter stared at her words for a few moments. She was afraid. He'd been the same way, in the beginning, and could remember grasping for comfort somewhere behind the cold, unfeeling screen that he peered into now. But, slowly…

**glassmouth**

_Yes. The first few months I was here, back when I tried to keep track. They disappeared, after an while, and then it was just me. I'd given up, until you three showed up. This is all very exciting._

xXx

A chilling prospect, that the voices out there would simply fall silent. It only pressed Olivia harder to find a solution, and get out. She asked something useful of him, now.

**Pureffect.45**

_Have you ever been out of your room?_

xXx

Walter's brows furrowed. He guessed it could be considered that, as they were certainly not going to be doing the usual to him in his cell. After all, there were no traces of blood, afterward.

**glassmouth**

_Yes. They take me out, as I'm sure they will you._

xXx

Peters fingers were flying over the keys, as his mind was racing.

**Utopianserpent**

_Who? Who takes us out? The ones who put us here?_

xXx

**glassmouth**

_Xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx. xxx xxx xxx, xxx xxx xxx xxx. But I digress._

xXx

Peter bared his teeth and whispered a curse under his breath. At last a source of information, and the poor bastard was being edited six ways from Sunday. Whoever was watching them was crippling them with ignorance. Peter found it enraging.

**Utopianserpent**

_Wonderful. So much for that._

xXx

Olivia shared his disappointment, and sighed, sitting back in her chair to run her fingers back, through her hair.

**Pureffect.45**

_I guess we'll have to find out on our own. Have we stopped to think of why we might be here?_

xXx

Astrid hadn't considered that. She had just been occupied of finding out what their captors wanted, so she wouldn't be able to give it to them. Pure raised a good point, that perhaps they did not possess something of value. It was an refreshing possibility, but a slightly distressing one, too.

**:Boolean:**

_A punishment, do you think? But for what?_

xXx

Olivia hoped that wasn't the case.

**Pureffect.45**

_There has to be some connection between us. I mean, serpent is a criminal, I'm a cop. There's one._

xXx

_And _she was back on him. Peter really hoped he wouldn't have to deal with her much longer.

**Utopianserpent**

_Because there's obviously no other possible connection._

xXx

Astrid had to stop this, they couldn't get distracted with macho or feminist crap right now. She revealed the conclusion she had realized long before;

**:Boolean:**

_Well, we work for the same people, pure, I can tell you that much._

xXx

Olivia's interest piqued…

**Pureffect.45**

_Xxx?_

…and immediately faded with bitterness.

**Pureffect.45**

_Damn._

xXx

Peter shook his head, cursing his luck. He should have guessed, but he seemed really off today, seeing as he had just been kidnapped and all.

**Utopianserpent**

_You're a cop that works with computers, then. Grand._

xXx

Astrid set to verbalizing the way she had placed the pieces together.

**:Boolean:**

_So two cops, and a… gentleman of questionable profession. That fits. But what about glass?_

xXx

Discomfort suddenly seized Walter, and let out a grunt of annoyance. He didn't have time for this, now that he had friends to talk with. But nature could not be ignored. He tried to word his predicament delicately.

**glassmouth**

_Excuse me, I have to hit the head._

xXx

Olivia rolled her eyes.

**Pureffect.45**

_TMI, man, TMI._

xXx

He returned to his seat, rubbing his palms on the front of his trousers to dry them. Status report.

**glassmouth**

_I'm back. I washed my hands._

xXx

Peter sucked the front of his teeth. This man was rapidly turning into a fool, which he was simply not in the mood for, and he posted flatly;

**Utopianserpent**

_And we're all so proud of you._

xXx

Astrid pretended the event simply had not taken place, and continued with her train of thought.

**:Boolean:**

_Glass, you said you were a teacher. But lectures and debates would indicate that you were more of a professor. Is that right?_

xXx

Wow. She was smart. Walter liked smart girls. At least, he thought that he did, but as of late, he couldn't remember just _what_ he liked about them… not physically, of course, but…  
**glassmouth**

_Yes. But I was only one for a xxx, so I fail to draw a conclusive parallel to the connection that the three of you seem to share._

xXx

So he hadn't been some helpless egghead that shuffled books for a living. Olivia had dealt with enough people to know how such things went. He'd probably gotten too smart for his own good, and gotten into something bad. She was correct on a number of levels.

**Pureffect.45**

_Did you ever do anything illegal?_

xXx

Did lab permits…? No, certainly not. Walter bent the truth only slightly to respond.

**glassmouth**

_No, not really. Not anything to warrant police attention._

xXx

Olivia moved on to the next obvious comparison that could be drawn;

**Pureffect.45**

_Did you ever work with the law?_

xXx

**glassmouth**

_No. I worked for the xxx, after I became a xxx xxx. _

xXx

Damn foul editing! It was really starting to piss her off.

**Pureffect.45**

_Well, hell._

xXx

Peter was about to agree with her, for once, when his ears, which had been ringing with the silence, had become sensitive enough to register something he certainly wouldn't have picked up on, in any other setting. The gentle sound of bells; very, very faint.

**Utopianserpent**

_Listen, do you hear that???_

xXx

Astrid looked over her shoulder, at the locked door. The sound was behind it.

**:Boolean:**

_Something that sounds like wind chimes or something?_

xXx

Olivia typed hurriedly, and got to her feet, approaching the door.

**Pureffect.45**

_I hear it too._

xXx

Walter felt dread hit the bottom of his stomach like a lead weight. He sat up strait, his fingers flying over the keys as he plead warning, told them what the bells did…

**glassmouth**

_Xxx xxx!!! Xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx!!!_

Nothing.

**glassmouth **

_Hello?_

They were gone. He was alone _again_. He felt like crying, but did not.

**glassmouth**

_Damn you._

OFFLINE. TIME ELAPSED: 05:16:49.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

ONLINE. TIME ELAPSED: 00:00:00

Pain arrived from a direction Peter had never experienced before. As he groaned and rolled from the cot, the sheets clung to the half-dried lacerations that spanned the back of his shoulders. He panted in the dark, blinking away the film of pain in his eyes, and tried not to move. He let out a soft cry as a shiver unconsciously crossed him, and rested his forehead against the carpet, baring his teeth. Carefully, he raised a hand, his fingers running lightly across the cuts, inflamed and swollen from heat. He winced at the sting, and slowly, painfully, made his way to the chair, leaning over the desk as his cuts throbbed in the motionless air. Nothing made sense, and he desperately typed;

**Utopianserpent**

_Does anyone know what just happened?_

xXx

Olivia looked over similar cuts that spanned the length of her pale legs, marring the smooth flesh horribly. There was no way that these would heal properly… she bit her lower lip, forcing herself to stand, and stumble painfully into the desk chair without so much as a whimper. A tear of pain welled uncontrollably from the corner of her eye, and she struck it away, cursing softly.

**Pureffect.45**

_IDK. Boo, glass, are you there? What's going on?_

xXx

Peter didn't have the energy to fight. And, truthfully, he was too afraid. He needed someone, even her.

**Utopianserpent**

_No one is answering. There are cuts all over my back, but they feel like they were burned shut. I don't remember anything but waking up here again._

xXx

So, they must have all been like this. What happened to one must have happened to all, everything else was the same. Olivia even felt a bit sorry for Serpent, and shared his woe for a few moments.

**Pureffect.45**

_Me too. But mine are on my legs. I can barely walk._

xXx

Walter looked over his chest at the computer screen from his sprawled position on the floor. His eyebrows knit in concern- they'd woken. He couldn't remember the first time it'd happened to him, but he could remember the fear, afterwards. He got to his feet and took a seat at the desk, sighing.

**glassmouth**

_You're back. Are you alright?_

xXx

Glass had to know what had happened- why hadn't he told them what was going on? He had to know what they'd done, who had done this. Peter demanded answers, his words a mix of pain, fear, and fury.

**Utopianserpent**

_Glass, what the hell is going on? What did they do to us?!_

xXx

Walter frowned unhappily. They were children, they had to be so afraid… he wished that he could somehow help them, but found he could offer them nothing. He had only to query the severity of the wounds, and the location.

**glassmouth**

_I can't really say, unfortunately. Not because they won't let me, but because I don't know. Where did they get you?_

xXx

Olivia let the cloth of her trouser legs fall back over her exposed flesh, wincing.

**Pureffect.45**

_Legs._

xXx

Peter couldn't stop shivering. He was starting to sweat, now, and wondered if perhaps the scratches were infected.

**Utopianserpent**

_Back._

xXx

Walter shook his head sadly. He could do nothing, but try to consol them, compare and relate to the awful things they were feeling. He didn't know why. It never got any better.

**glassmouth**

_I see. Strange, as they did not take me, this time. But when they do, it's my chest, from the clavicle to the bottom of the sternum. I know how it hurts. I'm sorry._

xXx

Peter's cynicism returned, his distrust multiplied in anguish and confusion.

**Utopianserpent**

_Why didn't they take you? What the hell is going on?!_

xXx

Walter bit his lip.

**glassmouth**

_I don't know. I know I'm being useless. I tried to hide, in the beginning, but it was no use. Don't worry, you'll heal. I'm only sorry for the scars, miss pure._

A young lady's legs… such injustice.

xXx

Scars were the least of her problems, at the moment. If they hadn't taken glass, but had taken the rest of them, there was no telling where Boo had gotten off to.

**Pureffect.45**

_I'm worried about boo._

xXx

Peter felt a trickle of salt run down a cut like a searing brand. With renewed determination, he posted the only solution that existed.

**Utopianserpent**

_We have to get out of here._

xXx

Glaring down at her hidden wounds through the blur of tears, Olivia simply and calmly agreed.

**Pureffect.45**

_Yes._

xXx

An irrational response born of fear. But they had to be careful with such talk, and Walter knew; he'd not gone without his share of punishment, for misbehavior.

**glassmouth**

_I applaud your sense of obligatory exodus, but I fear that it simply may not be possible._

xXx

He was against them, then. Anyone who could sit back and let something like this happen was wrong.

**Utopianserpent**

_And how would you know? You sound content to just sit there and do nothing._

xXx

He could understand his hostility, but it was misplaced. Walter admitted that there was something wrong with himself, he was crazy, after so long, here… perhaps he did want to stay here… did the thoughts of the outside frighten him, now? His memories, of so long ago, it seemed like they weren't his own?

**glassmouth**

_I've been here too long. I hated it here, when I had something to get out for, as you all do. I had a wife, a son, a family. But after so long, I doubt they care where I've gone. Do you think that I did not try to get out, to return to them?? But wishing and praying and planning have failed me, in this place. There is no longer anything else, outside these walls._

xXx

God Damn it, that smarted. Astrid ignored it, carefully keeping her forearms elevated from the desktop, his wrists bleeding slightly as she flexed them to place her hands on the keyboard.

**:Boolean:**

_Nice to know, professor Morose. But I've got other plans. ;)_

XXx

Olivia sighed with relief.

**Pureffect.45**

_Boo, are you alright?_

xXx

Astrid smiled painfully, the blood caking on her skin itching and burning maddeningly; a different feeling altogether from the hope of an act of desperation that began to take shape in her mind.

**:Boolean:**

_Yes. They cut up my arms pretty bad, but I can manage. I don't remember what happened either, but I'm thinking that we may have a chance, the next time they come for us._

xXx

Olivia's mind flickered on like a flame.

**Pureffect.45**

_How do you mean?_

xXx

Astrid glanced around the room, for some odd reason expecting for someone to be reading over her shoulder. She stared at the locked door uncomfortably for a few moments, then shook her head clear of doubts, returning to the conversation

**:Boolean:**

_I can't say much here. They're watching. We've got to come up with a way to communicate without them…_

xXx

Olivia sighed. Her kingdom for one thing that wasn't impossible.

**Pureffect.45**

_But this is the only way we can speak to each other._

xXx

_Morose_? He wasn't _morose_… was he? Walter shook his head, attempting to focus on the point at hand. Whoever was editing them was simply editing away certain words, or they would not have been able to cooperatively discover each other's professions. Not that they had correctly deciphered his own. Perhaps…

**glassmouth**

_This is going to seem a little… odd. But, please, try to follow. Imagine, if you would, that every alphabetical connotation commutates into numerical value- this is the basis of communication. In such a case, a simple equation could be used to communicate the desired message, providing that the one receiving the message can simply convert the algebraic formulae back into the original alphabetical counterpart. In example, 'A' could simply be written as '1', or as complicated as _'i',_ as the value of _i_ is the equivalent to the square root of 1, which is 1. And 'H' could be '8', or perhaps even pi, as the value of pi is 3.14, which when summed becomes 8 again._

…_I'm crazy. Does this make any sense??_

What do you know? He _was_ a teacher, even after all this time. Huh.

xXx

Peter sighed. The man was blathering- did he himself even know what he said, or did his get lost in the syllables? Taking into consideration the confused state his companions probably felt. He translated.

**Utopianserpent**

_Yes, you're crazy, but I think I get it. He means that instead of typing the letter, you would type it's number in order, and perhaps a math problem that amounted to the same number._

There, bam, one freaking sentence.

xXx

Astrid laughed aloud suddenly at the sheer 'simplicity' of the solution. Nearly bursting, she responded enthusiastically.

**:Boolean:**

_Glass, you're BRILLIANT!!!_

xXx

Walter grinned smugly, throwing his chest out slightly. He wondered if she were sharp enough to be impressed by his creativity, when it came to such things.

**glassmouth**

_They say that, sometimes. My name is ([6]-2) (27.0) ([10/2]²+10) (mc²) (J³°°mmm). It's nice to finally meet you… so to speak._

xXx

Astrid wondered, reddening slightly, if he were implying that they had 'chemistry'. She shook the thought away, and started to translate. He had overcomplicated things drastically- she'd not done well, in her physics class. It took her a bit, but she managed most of it; 6 could have been the atomic number for carbon, which was expressed as the letter Z. Two letters back from Z was W. 27.0, which followed, was then simple; the relative atomic mass of aluminum, Al. Half of ten was five, squared was ten again, with ten added was twenty, T. Mc squared was cute, and obviously E. She really had no idea what J300 meant…J could have been joule, but she wasn't sure. The only obvious answer that fit was R. His name was WALTER.

**:Boolean:**

_Let's not start to overcomplicate things, W. My name is (1)(19)(20)(18)(9)(4), and I owe you a kiss, when we get out of here. Pure, serpent, is there anything you'd like to add, about yourselves??_

xXx

It was difficult, to say the least. It took her a few minutes, to perfect it.

**Pureffect.45**

_My name is (15)(12)(9)(22)(9)(1). god, this is going to be a pain._

xXx

Astrid did not need to point out the obvious comparison, but did anyways.

**:Boolean:**

_As painful as your legs?? serpent, what about you?_

He'd been silent for a peculiarly long time.

xXx

No. No, he was thinking crazy. That wasn't possible- in fact, the notion was absurd. The fact that his dead father's name had been Walter was simply a coincidence. Refusing to dispute with himself any further on the matter, Peter briefly imputed his name.

**Utopianserpent **

_(16)(5)(20)(5)(18)._

xXx

Walter fell from his seat with a crash. The chair spun unheeded as he stared up at the screen, wide-eyed. He crawled to his knees, sitting up to type.

**glassmouth**

_Dear god. You can't be serious._

xXx

Olivia frowned at the screen in concern, suspicion fringing her words.

**Pureffect.45**

_What's going on? Is something wrong?_

xXx

Shit.

**Utopianserpent**

_My name is (16)(5)(20)(5)(18). is there a problem?_

xXx

Walter let out a quiet whimper in the silence, looking away from the screen and covering his lips with his palm for a few moments. He swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest as his pulse throbbed in his ears. This wasn't possible, it was too wonderful, too terrible. His hands trembled, his post arriving in the most sincere form of babble.

**glassmouth**

_No, that can't be you. it can't be. My son? You? Ddearr ggod.. Deaar godd, xxx it's youu._

xXx

There wasn't time to sort this out. His father had died seventeen years ago, and that was the end of it. So what if Walter had had a son? Whatever this was rapidly becoming would end here.

**Utopianserpent**

_The old guy's on crack. Can we please just find a way to get the hell out of here? My back is killing me._

xXx

Astrid looked at the screen blankly, confused. This was all together too weird.

**:Boolean:**

_P. is your son, W.?_

xXx

He wanted to yell it, _yes!_ but did not. He must have seemed so pathetic, fighting back tears of fear, of sorrow, and he didn't even know if this Peter was _his _Peter. Part of him wanted it to be, while the other part wanted his dear child to be somewhere very, very far from this dark, hateful place.

**glassmouth**

_I think he is. It would explain the connection- you and O. work together, to chase P., my son. It's you. I'm so sorry._

xXx

Peter growled with agitation, annoyed. This wasn't the point. It didn't matter, right now. Maybe it would, when they got out of here, but not now. For now, they were wasting time.

**Utopianserpent**

_My father died 17 years ago, now shut up. If you would kindly enlighten us with you epiphany of escaping brilliance, A.?_

xXx

Had Peter missed him, for that time? Had he really been here that long? The pain in the back of Walter's heart surfaced once more, for a realization he had tried to block off like a bleeding artery. The world out there _did _ exist. It just didn't _care_. Peter would never come to know such thoughts, he vowed to himself wordlessly. That was his son. He'd be damned if he fell to the same madness of this pit.

**glassmouth**

_I'll get you out of here. I don't care what it takes. I promise. I want to see you so much. I've missed you so much._

xXx

He'd really put his foot in it, this time. How awkward it would be, when Walter met a stranger that thought nothing of him.

**Utopianserpent**

_Whatever. Just shut up._

xXx

Aww, that was sweet. But at least now, the connections had been placed. Just _why_ they had been selected was unclear, but Astrid had no intention of sticking around to find out.

**:Boolean: **

_Sounds like you two have some catching up to do. Okay, let me lay it out. (23)(8)(5)(14) (20)(8)(5)(25) (3)(15)(13)(5) (6)(15)(18) (21)(19), (23)(15) (8)(1)(22)(5) (20)(15) (7)(5)(20) (15)(21)(20). (9)(20) (4)(15)(5)(19)(14)(20) (13)(1)(20)(20)(5)(18) (8)(15)(18), (11)(9)(12)(12) (20)(8)(5)(13) (9)(6) (25)(15)(21) (13)(21)(19)(20). (2)(21)(20) (7)(5)(20) (15)(21)(20). (23)(5) (8)(1)(22)(5) (20)(15) (13)(5)(5)(20) (21)(16), (20)(8)(5)(12) (23)(5)(12)(12) (8)(1)(22)(5) (1) (3)(8)(1)(12)(3)(5)._

xXx

Translation was getting easier; When they come for us, we have to get out. It doesn't matter how, kill them if you must. But get out. We have to meet up, then we'll have a chance.

Olivia saw the advantage immediately.

**Pureffect.45**

_Power in numbers?_

xXx

That might be the case, when it came to force. But this place seemed more like a puzzle, to her, like a huge, unanswered riddle. If they could communicate freely, without even the hindrance of using separate characters that took so much time… nothing would be able to stop them.

**:Boolean:**

_Brilliance in numbers. The lot of us don't seem too terribly stupid, I think._

xXx

Peter sighed. He hated to be the bringer of bad news, but it seemed to be in his blood- no, no, _no,_ that wasn't certain, yet.

**Utopianserpent**

_But we could be miles apart, for all we know. Hit the walls!!_

xXx

Brilliance- was it a family thing? Astrid got to her feet, striding up to the wall beside the locked door. She looked down at her torn arms, and frowned at the problem that had presented itself. Perhaps if she kicked it, or something… thinking back to her advanced self defense classes, and darted forward, bringing up her knee to strike the wall with an echoing boom. Ordinary plaster would have caved, under her pressure, but the wall stayed perfectly in tact. Astrid waited, listening. Then, she repeated the process. After a while, she returned to the computer, disheartened.

**:Boolean:**

_I don't hear anything._

xXx

Olivia ran her thumb over her bruised knuckles, blowing a stray lock of hair from her face.

**Pureffect.45**

_Does anyone?_

xXx

Peter frowned at finding his assumption correct, knowing what kind of problems it would pose to their method of escape.

**Utopianserpent**

_No._

xXx

Walter hadn't gotten up. He'd tried that a very long time ago, and knew that it was futile- the walls were insulated with sound proofing material, if only to stop the screaming. He did not tell them this, and only answered shortly.

**glassmouth**

_Nope._

xXx

But there was something that confused her, and Astrid had to voice it.

**:Boolean:**

_But if we all heard the chimes, at the same time, we can't be too far apart._

xXx

There was no avoiding it. Olivia did not know was beyond their small, dark prisons, and could not fully plan much of anything. There were certain aspects that had to be played by ear. The one thing that they had to do, for now, was get out.

**Pureffect.45**

_We are just going to have to risk being far apart. Everyone has to hold their own, okay? If any of us do find one another, they have to find the others, understand?? We're all getting out of this together._

xXx

That wouldn't work. How could they trust each other, when they all seemed at odds, and had never met? Peter did not just plan to sit around and rot, waiting for a cop or some nut job who claimed to be his long lost father to come along and save him.

**Utopianserpent**

_What's to stop them from just up and leaving everybody?_

xXx

Ah. Evidence of what the world had already done to his beautiful son, and Walter was saddened to hear words that sounded very much like his own had been. But the answer was simple, even if Peter was distrustful of him, and everyone else.

**glassmouth**

_Love._

xXx

What kind of answer was that? A crazy one. It was abundantly clear that Walter was unstable, a side effect of staying in a place like this for so long… Peter wondered what would happen to him, after they got out of here. Surely, there had to be some place, _someone_ to take care of him. _Someone _had to care.

**Utopianserpent**

_What a perfectly useless answer._

xXx

Walter smiled. It was times like this that told him just how old he was.

**glassmouth**

_I've grown very fond of all of you, regardless of how our short durations of communication have been. I wouldn't have it any other way, then to finally meet all of you at last. I only hope for the best. Besides, I've earned myself a kiss, and I haven't had one for 17 years._

xXx

Astrid snorted. Very well, she supposed that it was the least she could do, and Walter seemed nice enough.

**:Boolean:**

_LOL!_

xXx

So, it had been settled. They would get out, no matter what. Olivia smiled herself, and simply asked the next step in their plan.

**Pureffect.45**

_So now, we just wait?_

xXx

Unfortunately, that was one of the many problems with Astrid's plan. And, as they would later find, the most maddening.

**:Boolean:**

_Yep._

xXx

Peter sighed, and nearly sat back in his seat before he sprang upright again, hissing softly at himself. While he had stopped sweating, he now felt chilled.

**Utopianserpent**

…_I think these things on my back are getting infected._

xXx

They always felt that way. But Walter had long come to the conclusion that the cuts were often simply so severe that the body went into shock, and reacted accordingly. If he did not prompt them to act quickly, they would start fevering.

**glassmouth**

_If you go and rinse them with cold water in the sink, it hurts less. I am unapprised as of late to the sanitation of the water, here, but I haven't come down with anything to date._

xXx

Ah, anything to stop the stinging. And, what other choice did he have, than to follow his advice? The man spoke with experience, Peter was sure, and if Walter truly believed that he was his son, he would not harm him. Perhaps something he could use in the future.

**Utopianserpent**

_Good to know. You sound more like a doctor than a professor._

xXx

Yes, that was it. Walter had been a man of healing, at first. But, soon, it had become more than fixing the body, it had become about fixing the mind, the minds of everyone. Surely his mother had told the boy of what he'd done.

**glassmouth**

_You know full well what I was, son._

xXx

Peter smirked darkly. What kind of delusion…? Even if Walter _was_ his father, why would he want to admit to such a reputation as the one 'Walter Bishop' possessed?

**Utopianserpent**

_You're on crack, old man. Seriously. I'm going to go wash off. Is there anything to eat in this hell hole?_

xXx

Walter did not look away from the screen as he dolefully responded;

**glassmouth**

_The worst butterscotch pudding you could imagine._

xXx

Astrid somehow felt less alone, even if her room was growing progressively colder to indicate a need to cover up and sleep. She could not (or would not?) imagine sitting at the screen, staring hopefully, and all the while knowing she was perfectly alone.

**:Boolean:**

_W., how did you make it, by yourself?_

xXx

Ooh, admiration? What for? She was mistaken. Walter thought he could have done much better in such a situation, if only he had been a stronger person. If only he'd loved enough to keep going.

**glassmouth**

_I didn't, quite obviously. You ladies should patch yourselves up and sleep a bit, while you can. I'll see you in a while._

xXx

Olivia shivered, thinking on how cold the water would be, on her legs. But her mind was so numb that she doubted if she would truly feel it.

**Pureffect.45**

_I guess this is goodnight._

xXx

Astrid had to agree.

**:Boolean:**

_Goodnight._

OFFLINE. TIME ELAPSED: 04:54:06.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

ONLINE. TIME ELAPSED: 00:00:00

Astrid awoke in the cold and dark to a noise, beyond the walls of her room. She immediately sat up, wondering if perhaps this would be the time when they came for them, the time when they had to fight. At length, she had calmed down, adrenaline having the strange affect of drowsiness on her blurred senses, now that it had passed. Holding the blanket around herself and abandoning the sheets, she went to the chair, and looked into the glowing computer screen.

**:Boolean:**

_Does anyone hear that?_

xXx

Half asleep, Peter heard it, too.

**Utopianserpent**

_More chimes?!_

xXx

Olivia rubbed away the drowse in her eyes, frowning in confusion. Not bells, this time, but…

**Pureffect.45**

_I hear it too. No, it's piano. W., what is that?_

xXx

**glassmouth**

_Rowrowrowyourboatgentlydownthestreammerrilymerrilymerrilymerrilylifeisbutadreamrowrowrowyourboatgentlydownthestreammerrilymerrilymerrilymerrilylifeisbutadreamrowrowrowyourboatgentlydownthestreammerrilymerrilymerrilymerrilylifeisbutadream_

xXx

Peter rubbed his face, exhaling roughly as he squinted at Walter's post.

**Utopianserpent**

_What the hell?! Has he completely lost it, over there?!_

xXx

Concern gripped Astrid, and she hurriedly typed;

**:Boolean:**

_W, is something wrong? Are you alright??_

xXx

**glassmouth**

_Theyreherewithmetheyrealwaysherewithmemakethemleaveimscared_

xXx

Something was wrong, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

**:Boolean:**

_Calm down. Did they come for you? Have they taken you? Try to respond._

xXx

There was virtual silence for what might have been ten minutes, and Peter swallowed, realizing what it meant.

**Utopianserpent**

_He's gone. They've got him. Those bastards._

xXx

Olivia felt her awareness growing, memories of her senseless dreams fading as the dread sunk in.

**Pureffect.45**

_He'll be back, right? They put us back, so he'll have to come back. He's been here forever, right?_

xXx

Astrid sighed, massaging her temples. It wasn't fair.

**:Boolean:**

_IDK. I hope so._

xXx

Okay, so maybe Walter wasn't his father. But that didn't mean he wasn't just like the rest of them, in wanting to get out of this place. Peter thought that perhaps, if anything, he deserved it _more,_ having endured this place for so much longer. He made his decision.

**Utopianserpent**

_If he doesn't come back, we'll have to find him. All of us are getting out of here._

xXx

Olivia agreed.

**Pureffect.45**

_Absolutely._

xXx

Astrid was thinking, now. This whole episode was crippling to morale, not to mention presented yet another flaw in her already imperfect plan.

**:Boolean:**

_I didn't take into consideration that they may come to take us all at different times. This may prove problematic._

xXx

Peter presented a potential solution, if only to make sense of the moment.

**Utopianserpent**

_Maybe if just one of us gets out, we can look around for the others. It's a long shot, but at least it's something. _

xXx

Astrid, for once, felt Peter's anger. It wasn't fair, how their captors held them so helplessly.

**:Boolean:**

_It's not something, P.. It's the only thing._

xXx

Olivia knew that they couldn't sit around stating the obvious, or she'd go mad. There had to be something for them to do, to make the temporary loss of Walter constructive. She snapped her fingers, diving for the keys as she thought of something.

**Pureefect.45**

_This is going to sound sick, but… maybe we can find something out by calculating the time that W is gone?_

xXx

Peter's brows rose on his forehead. That was thinking.

**Utopianserpent**

_Not bad. How will we time it?_

xXx

It wasn't so hard, really. At least, not for her. In fact, she had already started, the numbers whirring in her mind with perfect clarity; a talent that, at times, drove her crazy.

**Pureffect.45**

_I'm counting heartbeats. There are approximately 60 per minute, providing the individual is calm._

xXx

Hot damn. The girl was smart. Peter briefly toyed with the notion that she might be attractive, and dismissed himself- He'd never be able to get along with a cop, regardless of how smart or how pretty she may have been. It brought him immediately to a question that was unnoticeably important, for their plans.

**Utopianserpent**

_I just thought of something. How will we know how to find each other, if we don't know what each other look like? We need to give descriptions, or something._

xXx

Astrid shook the worry an fear away from her clouded thoughts. This was no time to be useless, and Peter and Olivia were being exceptionally productive. Not to mention, no bickering, which was a more than welcome change.

**:Boolean:**

_Good thinking, both of you. I don't know if we should interrupt O's counting._

xXx

They were underestimating the control she had over her own OCD, and Olivia smiled, pushing the numbers into her sub consciousness, where she kept them most of the time.

**Pureffect.45**

_No, I'm fine. I guess that I can go first, providing they don't start editing us again. _

But she didn't get the chance to start. Something caught her ear, and she swallowed.

**Pureffect.45**

_Is that what I think it is?_

xXx

Peter looked over his shoulder, at the door.

**Utopianserpent**

_Chimes._

OFFLINE. TIME ELAPSED: 01:24:14.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

OFFLINE. TIME ELAPSED: --:--:--

Carefully, he used his fingertips to part the flesh of his chest, re-opening the wound with a quick, ripping motion. Holding the laceration open with one hand, he pulled the tiny sliver of plastic from the inside of his cheek, healed nearly completely into his mouth, riding against his molars. His mouth tasted of blood, and he placed the undershirt back between his teeth and bit down on it. Dentist indeed.

With quaking hands, he lowered the sharp splinter to the cut, then paused, shutting his eyes and taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. He swallowed back the blood, and plunged the plastic into the wound. Walter screamed into the shirt, and twisted the makeshift implement, prying it up. Blood trickled down to his navel, and he set the shred of plastic onto the lip of the sink, using his bloodied fingertips to carefully remove a tiny, amber-colored glass disk from within his chest.

He spat out the shirt, and looked at the disk for a few moments, wondering for the thousandth time what it was, before crushing it in his fist and sprinkling the fragments into the sink with his blood. Walter twisted the tap on, washing it away and beginning to patch himself up.

So, he'd found it, this time, before it had a chance to take root. He was lucky. Most of the time, he'd open up wound after wound, and pass out before any sort of success. He'd have to cut himself open again, and pull it out, tiny silver wire-roots clumped together with blood.

Walter pinched the wound shut, and began to pass the plastic shard through the two layers of flesh, trailing behind it a thin piece of thread from the hem of his sheets. They replaced the sheets every time he was out, so he always had more thread to pull. The plastic piece he had managed to chip from the lip of the keyboard, and they hadn't found it, yet.

He felt himself growing light headed, and stilled in his stitches, leaning over the sink and shutting his eyes. He took a few drinks of water, and continued. What kind of existence was this? Performing such a barbaric act of surgery was nothing short of irony, really. Hell did not get more personal than this.

Walter finished up and patted the stitches dry, taking his time to return to his room and drop into his chair. He looked, unseeingly, into the glowing screen. There had been no activity in a very long time, and he had only to assume two possibilities; they were dead, or they had escaped. He wished very much for the second prospect. But both probabilities left him back where he had started; alone.

xXx

Her own pulse woke her, and, unconsciously, she began to count it. She could still remember where she had left off, and started from there. She cursed at herself mentally, knowing that she had to open her eyes, and look around. She had to find a way out.

Fear- pure, childish fear- kept Olivia from opening her eyes, and she only hid in her numbers, in her heartbeats. She could hear the gentle hiss of a respirator, and slowly came to realize that the sharp beep of a heart monitor followed her counting. The Velcro straps itched at her wrists, and she felt like lead, lying on her back, shivering. A loud hum grew in her ears, vibrating the air until she could feel it in the back of her teeth.

Heat collected on her skin, a burning sensation that was unnaturally numbing. The hair on her arms stood on end, and she found it increasingly hard to breathe. All at once, her eyes opened and a scream erupted from her throat as her cells tore themselves apart.

Olivia opened her eyes, gasping for breath. Her breath fogged in the chill air, and she pulled the blanket around her shoulders to keep out the cold. She was back in the room once more.

She did not go to the computer. She merely rolled onto her side, moving over to rest her back against the wall. Still and silent, she stared out into the dark, waiting. If she didn't shut her eyes, they couldn't take her again.

xXx

It was a good thing that there seemed to be no limit on the amount of hot water he could use, in his small stall shower. He did not know how much longer the cold would last, and had only gone to bathe simply to rid himself of it. But, if he had run out of hot water, he would have caught chills, with wet hair.

It may have been an hour, maybe two, Peter didn't know. It was starting to warm up, when he wrapped a towel around his waist and stood on the misted floor tiles, staring into the polished steel sheet that acted as an unbreakable mirror. His eyes reflected as pale points of light in the dark, and his face was pallid, accenting the dark rings around his now sunken eyes. He was getting better at seeing in the dark, now. He turned away from the mirror and leaned back against the sink.

His fingers absently traced the places on his back where he could have sworn there had tears, but no longer existed. He could remember them so clearly- it was impossible that he had imagined them, and impossible that they had simply vanished… he glanced over his shoulder at his reflection, his eyes spanning the thin, white scars. Unless it had somehow been months that had passed, it simple wasn't possible.

He returned to the room, his clean trousers and shirt draped over his forearm. A tray of what he could assume was food had appeared just beyond the sealed door, and he stooped slightly to examine it for a few moments. Bread, a few slices of banana, a bowl of pudding, and a paper cup of pulpy orange juice. That was a lot of natural sugars and carbohydrates, a natural source of energy. But, if they were simply sitting around in a featureless box all day, why did they need such energy? He could only guess that it had something to do with the activities they did during their lapses. Peter mumbled something, and left the food where it was.

He did not go to the screen. Why would he? There was nothing they could do, now. Fighting was impossible. The chimes would start, and he would simply forget everything, and then find himself lying in the cot, as if nothing had happened. Perhaps nothing _did _happen. Perhaps he was going crazy, just like his old man.

xXx

Astrid was singing to herself to fight away the misery. Ironically, the lyrics were something along the lines of misery loving company. It seemed to fit the situation.

Her arms were as good as new. She didn't know how, and the very thoughts of such things frightened her, and she pushed her fear aside, seizing the opportunity of her good health to search the room for anything she could use as a tool. She had attempted to pry up the carpet, to no avail, as the fibers came up in her fingers when she pulled hard enough. The sheets could be torn, but she saw no use of such things just yet, and left them be. The bars of the cot were welded, a far too heavy for her to move. She had traced along every part of the walls she could reach, and found nothing. The bathroom had offered nothing, the fogged Plexiglas of the shower immovable. Not even the sink knobs were removable.

At last she returned to toe desk, flopping down in the chair with an exhausted sigh. Her rubbed her eyes with her fingertips, and squinted at the screen. A blinking cruiser awaited her input. She started to reach forward to the keys, and stopped, letting her hands rest back on the desktop. There was nothing she could do, nothing that she could tell them. There would simply be another pointless conversation, filled with hope and ending with despair. She couldn't take it, not now.

OFFLINE. TIME ELAPSED: --:---:--

_BEGIN SUBJECT ASSIMILATION: Y/N?

_Y_

_ACTIVATING AMNESIA SEQUENCE. REGULATION RELAYS UNDETECTED. OVERRIDE?

_Manual sequence command. Code: BISHOP._

_MANUAL SEQUENCE ACTIVATED.

_Execute._


	5. Chapter 5

5.

ONLINE. TIME ELAPSED: 00:00:00

She had found a hole. She had to tell them, she didn't know why. But she had found one; a tiny, chipped-away place in the wall, and she did not know how deep it was, as she stuck her arm in it, nearly to her elbow. She had removed her hands only to find it coated with smudges of white, crumbling drywall.

**:Boolean:**

_Is anyone there? I think I found something._

xXx

Hope was a stupid, stupid thing. It had been hope that had kept Walter awake for what he could assume was several days, glancing now and again at the glowing screen in the selfish, shameful hope of movement, of anything. His punishment, now, was being at last asleep, as Astrid's comment arrived on his screen. His rest was fitful and unpleasant, and his hands and features twitched and tightened against the desktop with unpleasant dreams.

xXx

Olivia was not sleeping, as she looked up from her seat across from the locked door, as she had been staring at it, waiting. The immediate motion on the screen drew her eyes like a night animal waiting for prey, and she rose, carefully pacing across the room to sit on her knees in the chair.

**Pureffect.45**

_I thought I was alone. But W. was right- we're never alone._

xXx

Astrid knew what she meant. It had been a very long time since they had spoken. Astrid had only to assume that the others might even have been mad at her, for instilling them with such high expectations. But she couldn't help it. It would take all of them to get out of this place, and she had to keep them fighting.

**:Boolean:**

_We'll never be alone if we have each other.  
_

xXx

Peter had stopped doing sit-ups to watch the conversation. He scoffed openly at Astrid's weak-sounding attempt at bonding. He'd decided a long time ago that if he were going to get out of here, it would be of his own power.

**Utopianserpent**

_Just can it, A.._

xXx

Astrid glared at the screen;

**:Boolean:**

_Quit being stupid. Now I've found something, and I think it might help, regardless of how much of a xxxhead you're being._

xXx

Olivia looked over her shoulder at the door, finding that nothing had changed, in the time she had looked away. The screen pulled her eyes back in, and she leaned over the desk on her elbows.

**Pureffect.45**

_What is it you've found? Make it quick, they could come back for us._

xXx

Astrid returned to the fist-sized hole, looking at it for a few moments before returning to the desk.

**:Boolean:**

_It's… a hole. Just a hole in the wall, a few inches above the floor, behind the sink. It looks like someone kicked it in… but it wasn't there, when I checked last time. I don't know where it came from._

xXx

Peter frowned.

**Utopianserpent**

_What do you mean, you don't know? You're the only one that's been in the room, haven't you?_

XXx

Astrid looked back at the bathroom door, thinking back as best she could, form the lapses.

**:Boolean:**

_I don't remember putting it there. I'd remember something like that, wouldn't I?_

xXx

There were a whole hell of a lot of things that they couldn't remember, at this point, and what made it worse was how confusing the memories Olivia _did_ have were nothing short of horribly confusing.

**Pureffect.45**

_With the xxx that's been happening, I wouldn't surprised if you did, A.. Was there anything in the hole?_

xXx

Olivia had a point. Astrid went back to the wall and reached in again, still finding nothing.

**:Boolean:**

_Just dust. I don't know how deep it goes, I can only fit my arm in up to the elbow. What do you think it means?_

xXx

Peter considered a few moments, thinking back to the short duration of his life he had spent as a plumber's apprentice. It had paid far less than bank fraud, to be sure.

**Utopianserpent**

_It's a weak spot in the plaster, probably where some old pipes were removed, and it means a lot of things. It means that the pipes used to be exposed, and they replaced them, meaning that the people here before us tried and probably succeeded in dismantling them. It also means we're not dead or sleeping._

xXx

What a bizarre conclusion. Olivia had seen the reason behind his other assumptions, but the last one struck her as odd.

**Pureffect.45**

_This place is the closest thing to hell I've ever experienced._

xXx

He smirked. Her humor was coming back, and he was surprised to find that he had missed it.

**Utopianserpent**

_Me, too. What I mean to say is that it's too imperfect to be a dream. I don't dream of plumbing weak spots, do you? And this can't be hell, because hell doesn't exist._

xXx

Astrid raised her eyebrows.

**:Boolean:**

_You're an atheist? Why couldn't there be a hole in hell?_

xXx

Peter shook his head with a smirk.

**Utopianserpent**

_I'm agnostic, not atheist. There's a difference. And there couldn't be a hole in hell, because as common text holds it, Hell was constructed as a prison for lost souls by a higher 'good', regardless of which good you choose to believe in. So if something is created by god, it has to be flawless._

xXx

At least he was educated, in his own aspect, and Astrid could respect that, if anything.

**:Boolean:**

_I'm still don't have the foggiest idea what to do about this hole. If it's a weak spot, would you either of you have it, too?_

xXx

Olivia was way ahead of her, and slumped back in her chair with an agitated sigh, massaging her bruised hand from pounding the wall behind the sink.

**Pureffect.45**

_No dice. I beat the crap out of it, and got nothing._

xXx

Peter had concluded the same thing, covering his lips in his fingers in thought.

**Utopianserpent**

_I've got nothing. Perhaps you're in and older room, like they've made more of them since they fixed the plumbing._

xXx

A genuinely disturbing thought. But Olivia could see the strangely flawless logic behind it, and added a bit of her own.

**Pureffect.45**

_If they built new rooms, it could mean there are more flaws in the old rooms, or that they had more people to accommodate, or both. A., you have to look around for anything else. If you find anything, tell us as soon as you can._

xXx

Astrid smiled with a small, triumphant sigh. They were back on the right track again.

**:Boolean:**

_I'll see what I can do. (20)(8)(5) (16)(12)(1)(19)(20)(5)(18) (12)(15)(15)(11)(19) (11)(9)(14)(4) (15)(6) (23)(5)(1)(11), (11)(15) (9)'(12)(12) (20)(18)(25) (3)(8)(9)(16)(16)(9)(14)(7) (1)(20) (9)(20)._

xXx

That was a good prospect. And something about this place seemed different to him, now, as he had come to his conclusions. It no longer seemed like a somehow menacing, inescapable thing, but rather, a box built by man, flawed and beginning to crumble apart.

**Utopianserpent**

_Well. There may be hope for us yet._

xXx

Olivia was honestly shocked by his comment, and pondered silently if she had been too fast to judge Peter. But maybe not. She wondered what he looked like.

**Pureffect.45**

_Oh-ho? Do I sense a hint of optimism, Mr. Pessimist?_

xXx

Peter grinned. He might even look forward to seeing this woman in person.

**Utopianserpent**

_I'm not a pessimist, I'm a realist._

xXx

**Pureffect.45**

_You're certainly something._

xXx

**Utopianserpent**

_And just what does that mean??_

xXx

Astrid rolled her eyes, blowing a stray lock of hair away.

**:Boolean:**

_Would you two just get married or something?_

She waited, with a slight smirk, for their sharp responses, and was suddenly distracted. There was something different about her room again, and she only stared at it, openmouthed.

The door was open.

xXx

FEED SUSPENDED. TIME ELAPSED: 00:30:14.


	6. Chapter 6

6.

ONLINE. TIME ELAPSED: 00:00:00

_BEGINNING FEED. RADICAL SUBJECTS A61 AND B22 RELEASED.

_HYPOTHESIS:

IMMINENT TERMINATION OF SUBJECT A61.

"Hello… ?" It was the first word Astrid had spoken, and it felt loud and unwelcome, even as she whispered it across the dark threshold. She looked back at the computer screen, whirring with activity, and rose from the seat, standing in front of the open doorway. She peered into the dark, trying as best she could to ready herself for what lie beyond, and might want in.

Her legs were trembling as she stood slightly crouched, her balance and weight on the bare pads of her feet. Air hissed in and out of her clenched teeth as she crept closer to the doorway, stretching out her quaking fingertips to push the ingress open further. She stood at the ready.

Nothing arrived, and her eyes began to adjust to the dark of the unknown, beyond her room. There was a vague, blue light, somewhere. Astrid forced herself to step forward.

Her toes found only more soft carpet, beyond the thin, cool, steel barrier of the open door. Panting and sweating slightly with fear and anticipation, her fingers traced lightly along the rough walls.

It was another room, identical to her own. She looked over her shoulder, the door still open. What _was _this?

"Hello?" she tried again. There was only silence. Astrid nearly screamed as her eyes at last made out a figure in the dark.

A form was slumped lifelessly at the desk beside the glowing computer screen, facedown. Carefully, Astrid approached, raising her brows with curiosity, then recoiling with horror. Smears of dried blood discolored the nearly paper-white torso of the corpse that lay before her. Astrid looked back at her room again, wishing immediately to return to it, and get away from the body. But she could not, as there could be something there that she could use. Swallowing back her dread, Astrid knelt, plucking at the pockets of the lifeless form.

She felt something hard, and reached inside to draw out a thin, sharp shard of black plastic, chewed flat at one end to create a small hole. A bundle of white thread was twisted around it, and she sat back on her heels for a few moments to examine the sheer creativity of the simple contraption.

Hands seized her by the throat, and she felt herself lifted as she dropped the needle, her fingers scrambling for the grip that held her, as she and the corpse crashed onto the floor.

She stared up, horrified and unable to breathe, into sightless white irises. Her senses returned to her at last, and she brought up her knee, slamming her opposition in the ribs sharply and kicking them away. She rolled to her feet, readying for another assault.

He coughed into the carpet, holding his middle as he panted with pain. He looked up, pinpricks of blue light in his eyes as he scrambled backward, against the wall, where he sat, shivering, with his arms over his head defensively. He stared at her in frightened awe.

Astrid's breath caught, and her eyes widened. This was no corpse, obviously, but an old man, extremely wan, with graying curls and very pale blue eyes. Angry lacerations spanned his chest, stitched shut with what she could only assume had been the makeshift needle she had discovered. His lamp-like gaze was distant and slightly cloudy, if even a bit lost, and Astrid feared the man might even be blind, as asked tentatively, "Hello?"

He did not respond, blinking slowly, as if uncertain of what he was seeing.

"My name is Astrid. Astrid Farnsworth," she approached, overjoyed at the simple sight of someone else, no matter how strange they seemed. He shrank back into himself, shaking fearfully. Astrid decided to keep back, "I'm sorry I hurt you. You just scared me, was all. Are you alright?"

At last the old man spoke, his voice barely above a breath; "Peter."

"Yes- Utopian serpent, right? Do you know him?"

"Where is Peter?" hostility returned to his demeanor, his face turbulent.

Astrid carefully dropped to her knees, creeping closer, "I don't know. We have to get out of here and find him, okay? Who opened this door, do you know?"

Walter looked up, over her shoulder, and Astrid looked back as the door slammed shut, "What…?"

Astrid gave a cry as he attacked her again, struggling as he pinned her to the floor, pressing a hand over her mouth, "Shh!" he whispered hurriedly in her ear, "They're scanning! They cannot know that you've gotten out!" Astrid lay still, her heart hammering in her ears as they waited, listening. He gave a small sigh, and removed his hand, rising, "..it's over."

Astrid took his offered hand and got to her feet, straitening her shirt, "Scanning? What do you mean?"

"They only scan for one entity. If we were close, they might mistake us for one, which seems to be the case. But it's only a matter of time, before they realize you've gone," he made his way to the desk, stooping to collect the tank and pull it over his shoulders, "I must apologize for my half-nudity, I… I wasn't expecting company, ha ha." He turned to her with a small smile.

Astrid watched him with slight speculation, "Who _are _you?"

"I am Dr. Walter Bishop, know to you simply as 'glassmouth'." he offered his hand to her, "And may I inquire of your name, miss?"

"My name is Astrid. I've told you already," she watched his face, as he continued to gaze past her, and at last she waved her hand before his face slightly, "are you…?"

There was a sharp slap, and Astrid jumped in surprise as he gripped her wrist, "Blind? No. And don't do that." he released her, turning away. He began to pace the room, his fingers tracing the wall lightly, "Now, there must be a reason she's here. They don't simply _make mistakes_- they've been doing this far too long. They did in the beginning, but not now. No, no, there must be a reason. They've put her here, I know, but why? She's quite cute, I think. And smart. But why? Is she a spy? She might be a spy, she might be one of them-"

"Excuse me," Astrid said, breaking his concentration. He looked disoriented for a few moments, "You're thinking out loud. I'm not a spy, okay?"

"Who said spy?"

"You did. Just now."

"Did I?" he raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck, "Well, that's quite stupid. You can't be a spy. They know everything about all of us, why would they need a spy?"

There was silence, and Astrid realized suddenly that he had been addressing her, "Oh- um-"

"You must be a test for me. Or I might be a test for you. Do you remember me?" he came forward, checking her pulse at her throat, then beginning to lift her eyelids before she pushed him away.

"Of course I remember you, we met ten seconds ago. I'm _Astrid_, remember?" she began to seriously doubt his state of health as he ignored her comment, beginning to pace again.

"No, she's far too young. But really very cute. She couldn't possibly… but do I…?"

"You're babbling again," Astrid said flatly.

He looked up at her again. "Boolean?"

She smiled, "Yes. Boolean. Astrid Farnsworth. I work for the FBI."

"Conclusion: cute, but useless. Damn cute."

Astrid found herself exasperated as he took a seat on the floor, muttering to himself again. Walter was an obviously precarious individual, and she was wary of just how deep his flaws ran, and if she had anything to fear from him. She stooped, collecting the shard of plastic from the floor.

Walter bounded across the room, snapping it up form her fingertips, "Where did they cut you?" he asked.

Astrid looked up at him. Genuine concern shown on his face, and slight sadness. In made his face seem older.

"My arms," she answered.

"May I see your arms, miss?" he said.

At length, she raised her left hand. Walter took it, drawing his palms down the run of her arm. He repeated the process, pausing now and again to rub certain spots, his fingertips pressing firmly on her skin. Astrid flushed slightly at the odd experience, looking up into his face, which was poised in contemplation.

He stopped at a place on her underarm, just above her wrist, "There. It's there. Do you feel it?"

Astrid felt the skin where he had indicated. What felt like a small, hard object lay under the thin white band of a scar. Her eyes widened with horror, "What is that?!"

"It will be out in moments," he said calmly, and Astrid retracted from him, her heart beginning to race.

"What?! What will be out?! What the hell is this thing?!"

Walter stepped forward, "Miss, it has to come out. It isn't deep, simply inserted under the thinnest part of the epidermis. I won't lie, it will hurt, but-"

"No! You're crazy! Get away from me!" Astrid cried, backing away.

"Please calm down," Walter said firmly, showing his palms in a gesture of trust, "I'm a quite talented surgeon, not that you'd know it now, by the looks of me."

"You said you were a teacher," Astrid said cynically.

"I was. For about a year, I was a professor of physics, at Harvard. But that doesn't matter, now. If the disk stays where it is, you'll most likely face some horrible consequences. You must let me remove it."

"No!"

Walter frowned, "You're being unreasonable."

"Said the _crazy guy_!" Astrid snapped.

"That may be so. But I'm completely capable of popping that bad boy out. Now come here, it'll be done in a matter of seconds," he held out his hand, his other on his hip in the manner of a tolerant parent.

Astrid felt of the disk beneath her flesh, "What does this thing do?" she asked.

"I don't know. But they put it there, so the faster we get it out, the better."

Astrid swallowed, and took his hand. They settled on the carpet in the glowing light of the computer screen, "You may want to bite down on something," he said gruffly, "A shirt works."

"I'm not taking off my shirt," she joked.

He smiled gravely, and plunged the plastic wedge into her arm.

Astrid started to cry out, and bit it back, as Walter drew the sharp edge up, splitting open her skin. Blood ran to her elbow, dropping down to stain Walter's knees. He pulled the shard out, glancing up at her. The implement stabbed into the wound again, with a quick twisting, prying motion. He plucked the disk out, holding it up in his bloody fingertips for her to see.

Astrid was panting slightly, "that's it?"

"Yes."

"That hurt like a bitch."

"I know. I'm sorry," Walter patted her knee gently, "go on and wash the laceration. I don't think the incision is deep enough to warrant stitches, so you'll be alright."

Astrid rose, going to the sink and twisting on the tap. She hissed softly as she ran her wrist under the water, averting her eyes to the scratched nonsense that spanned the ceiling, "How did you know that that thing was in there?"

The tap was turned off, and Astrid looked up as Walter began to carefully wind a strip of clean bed sheet around the cut, "I can't really say. I can't really remember when I found them," He replied, "I just find them, and destroy them."

"Why? What if they can help us?" Astrid asked.

"Oh, they _do_ help you. They simulated the rapid tissue regeneration- how do you think you've healed so quickly? But even so," he added seriously, noting her gape of awe, "_they_ have inserted it. Nothing that they do is good. Everything they do _must_ be stopped."

xXx

FEED SUSPENDED. TIME ELAPSED: 00:21:30

_SUBJECT STATUS: A61 AND B22 CURRENTLY RADICAL.

_HYPOTHESIS:

INCONCLUSIVE.

_BEGIN FEED ON CONTROL SUBJECTS A24 AND O21 Y/N?

_Y. Code sequence: BELL._

_CONTINUED OBSERVATION STATUS ACTIVATED.


	7. Chapter 7

7.

ONLINE. TIME ELAPSED: 00:00:00

Stillness was the only thing that answered their jested threats in the thread. At first, Peter had simply thought that Astrid was writing up a clever reply, but after some time, he had begun to worry.

**Utiopianserpent**

_A.? is something wrong?_

xXx

More silence. Olivia felt her anxiousness growing, and tried not to listen for the bells. They did not sound, and she only found herself staring at the door, motionless. At last she turned to the keyboard again.

**Pureffect.45**

_She hasn't responded in a while. Do you think that something has happened?_

xXx

Peter sighed, leaning back to rub his eyes for a few moments before responding.

**Utiopianserpent**

_I don't know. Maybe_

But he was interrupted as there was a soft clicking noise, and he spun in his chair, tensed. There was nothing, and he blinked for a few moments, confused. A new tray had arrived, this time lacking in bland foodstuffs. He got to his feet, approaching the tray cautiously. What he saw confused him even further.

Pink ice cream.

xXx

Olivia rubbed her eyes in sheer bewilderment. But, even as she looked away, and looked back again, the ice cream remained- sitting there, it a white bowl, with a silver spoon, slowly melting.

Olivia knelt, scoffing softly at how bizarre it looked, sitting there, as if it had been cut out of a cooking magazine and pasted on a dark page. She carefully reached out, flicking bit of the ice cream onto the tip of her finger and bringing it to her mouth for a taste.

xXx

Peter found himself salivating at the rich sweetness of the frozen confectionary. He nearly smiled, lifting the bowl from the tray and standing. Ice cream- pretty awesome.

He returned to the desk, deciding to ignore the computer for a bit while he enjoyed his frozen treat. The taste was so familiar to him, like a flashback to a moment in his life that he couldn't quite place.

xXx

No response from Peter. Good. She wanted concentrate on her ice cream, for now. If she wasn't careful, she would get brain freeze.

The thought did not occur to her that she had never really liked ice cream, as a child. She had found it altogether too sweet, and it had always given her a stomachache. But this ice cream didn't seem at all too sweet, more cream that sugar, and Olivia found herself enjoying it for once, as she settled onto the bed, crossing her legs beneath herself. If she shut her eyes, she could see herself somewhere else, back in her apartment… where was that, then… ?

Olivia shrugged it off, deciding to at least enjoy the moment, if anything.

xXx

A delightful tingling had started at the edges of his tongue, not at all alarming, even as it crept back in his throat as he ate. It was the sugar, obviously, and he felt even a little giddy at the sensation. He looked up as a message popped up on the computer screen.

xXx

**glassmouth**

_Are you two still there??_

xXx

Olivia did not see the message, hoping to catch the larger mass of ice cream before it melted to join the rest. The color of it did not dim, even as it turned to soft foam at the edges of the bowl. Where had she had this before…?

xXx

"What is it? What are they saying?" Astrid asked, looking over Walter's shoulder at the screen.

"Nothing," he grumbled, his brows bent with concern, "_that's_ the problem."

**glassmouth**

_Answer me. What is going on?_

xXx

Ah, so Walter was up. Peter wondered why the old man had failed to mention the fact of the ice cream. Truthfully, he thought that there were a lot of things Walter was forgetting to mention, and each one seemed to cause them considerable harm, when discovered. At times, his absence of (or, lack of) coherence to facts of importance seemed a little too convenient. Peter frowned, and bit down on his spoon to feel the cold metal under his teeth.

He could remember eating ice cream from a waffle cone. He was uncertain if it had been the same flavor, as it may have been. But perhaps this was a new flavor that only mimicked and old one from the foggy past.

xXx

Astrid looked back at the door and clutched his shoulder, "Walter," she whispered, and he looked away from the screen as she pointed, "…what the hell is that?"

He hissed a curse, "Don't touch that!" he barked as she moved toward it. His hands returned to the keyboard in a hurry.

**glassmouth**

_DO NOT EAT THE ICE CREAM. IT IS DANGEROUS, YOU MUST BELIEVE ME. DO NOT EAT IT._

"I told you not to touch that!" Walter hissed, leaping from his seat to intercept the bowl in her hands. He raced it to the sink, and she could hear the dish shatter. Water hissed from the tap, and Walter breathed through clenched teeth as he scrubbed pink from his fingers.

"What is going on?" Astrid demanded as he emerged, "what was that?"

"Rat poison," Walter answered bitterly, drying his hands on the front of his shirt.

xXx

She finished off the last of it, and her mouth felt a little dry. Olivia got to her feet, going to rinse out to bowl and place it back on the tray. She soon forgot what she was doing, and left the sink running as she returned to the bed, shaking her head slightly and trying to concentrate. What was she doing?

She hated sweets. They gave her a stomachache. But no stomachache arrived, and she found herself smiling.

xXx

"It contains a collection of the same kinds of chemical compounds used in tranquilizers, along with the base elements of minor hallucinogenics and trace amounts of lysergic acid diethylamide," Walter explained.

"LSD? Jesus!" Astrid exclaimed, horrified, "like a druggies' wet dream!"

"Yes, well. Simple contact with it can cause a minor reaction, but full ingestion will create the response of nearly complete amnesia." He sighed, looking back over at the screen, "Which is what we have to fear, at this point."

xXx

Peter did not finish the ice cream. He set the bowl on the desktop, looking at it for a few moments. The ice cream was pink.

Was it meant to be strawberry or raspberry?

xXx

OFFLINE. TIME ELAPSED: 00:10:07

_SUBJECT STATUS:CONTROL SUBJECTS A24 AND O21 UNDER CONTINUED OBSERVATION.

_STAGE ONE COMPLETE.


	8. Chapter 8

8.

OFFLINE. TIME ELAPSED: --:--:--

Astrid opened her eyes to a soft, high whine. At first, she thought that she was somehow back at her mother's house in New Jersey, and the dog was worrying at the door. There sounded another whine, and she placed it as agony- was the dog hurt? Astrid sat up, rubbing the mist from her eyes.

It was Walter. Astrid bit her lip as her chest seized with emotional pain. He was curled into a ball on the floor beside the cot, his chest heaving slowly as his breath escaped his hands, pressed across his mouth, in sharp whimpers.

Astrid frowned with sorrow. The poor man was so sick. This place was poison, and time had completely saturated him, until he could not even escape into dreams. Astrid found herself falling into a habit she often practiced to calm herself; she sang softly.

"_The best is when you say the worst is over_

_It's like saying we had luck with a three-leafed clover and you_

_Kept saying that over and over_

_And I still catch you looking over your shoulder and it's_

_Okay, I know, the only times you really loved me_

_Were the times when you were sober…"_

"What song is that?" Walter asked quietly, "I don't recognize it."

"I don't know. They used to play it on the radio all the time, and it just stuck in my head. I used to sing in my church choir, actually."

"Is it your favourite song?"

"I don't know. Do you want me to stop?"

"No. Your voice is very beautiful." There was shifting in the dark, and he uncurled and lay on his back, "Probably the best I've ever heard, actually."

Astrid suddenly felt very self-conscious, "That's not true. You just haven't had a basis of comparison in a million years."

"True. But even so, I would still consider your voice amazing."

"I don't usually sing to people," Astrid admitted, "I mean, it's different, when you're in a choir- everyone adds to one voice, to make it more powerful. But when it's just me… I just sing to myself. Or my cat." She lay down on her stomach, watching him over the side.

"Then perhaps you think of me as a frightened animal," Walter said softly.

Astrid was silent.

Walter shut his eyes, the points of light suddenly extinguished in the dark, "I don't mind. Crazy folks are animals, really. They need someone to take care of them- like the savages."

"Savages?" Astrid questioned.

He nodded, his features flexing tiredly, "The savages. It's a literature reference, Huxley. Savages are what comprise and conduct our modern society, a society run on the savage desires of human nature. These savage desires cripple us with things like fear and morality. To eliminate these savages would be to at last allow society to move forward, to evolve."

Alarmed, Astrid asked, "but how would we defy the very thing that makes us human?"

"We would have to forget everything we have learned. In a sense, society has moved backward. The time when we were at last free to explore routes of science unhindered was the time that we were considered 'animals'."

"From what you say, we would have to forget everything we know. And then we wouldn't be able to move forward at all," Astrid pointed out.

"You see how there is no possible way to remove the savages," Walter smiled, "humans are incapable of moving beyond their limitations. We were made to self destruct. Almost as if God is afraid of us, isn't it?"

"The whole world would have to be crazy," Astrid said.

Walter chuckled quietly, "The whole world _is_ crazy, miss Aspen. It is only deemed as wrong or right by which side of the machine you stand; in its path, to hinder progress and the loss of humanity by slowly allowing it to kill itself? Or behind it, to fuel it, and loose your own sense of humanity while insuring the immortality of something that no longer exists?"

"Which are you?"

"You were quite correct in your assumptions. I'm an animal. As are you. A savage with enough brains to know that what they are condemns them. We cannot change what we are, and to go against such rules is to face horrible repercussions- not that I didn't anyways." Walter was silent for a few moments, and he opened his eyes again, looking serious, "By the way, how _is_ the Cold War going?"

xXx

This time, she had opened her eyes. She had fought back the fear, suffocated the numbers in her mind, and forced her lids to lay away from her tear-filled eyes.

And she could remember nothing. She was back in the room once more, the haunting sound of the distant chimes seeming to echo behind the noises that she thought she could hear. Olivia let out a sob despite herself. What was this place? Was any of this real? Was _she_ even real, any more? What did it matter, when and if they came to get her? If there was blood under her fingernails, blood causing the sheets to cling to her stinging legs?

Olivia began to count her pulse again, and cursed at the numbers aloud. And, for once, the counting stopped. One ounce of mercy she would spare to herself, for now.

She got to her feet, the pain enraging her as her body burned with fury and fever, and she pointed her chin defiantly for an audience that did not exist, as she strode to the bathroom, reaching in to start the shower. She stripped away her clothes, draping them across the small, steel towel bar. She stepped under the icy stream and shivered, a small, inaudible noise of agony escaping her throat. If she were going to be here forever, she may as well get used to it.

The pink of her cold toes reminded her of the ice cream, and she felt disgusted. She'd been a real idiot, to do what she had. These people that were holding them were not kind- they may as well have fed her poison, for all it mattered. They had been testing her and doing things to her for an immeasurable amount of time, did she think that she would get a reward?

Olivia slowly lowered herself to her seat on the rough floor of the shower booth, and began to gently stroke the blood away from her cuts with her fingertips. They were burned shut, of course, and she bit the inside of her cheek as she was forced to pinch open a blister, allowing the stinging liquid within to escape and be washed away. She rubbed away the dead skin with her thumb roughly.

Minutes later, Olivia stepped out from the shower, roughing the water away from her skin with the featureless white towel. Pink spots of diluted blood discolored it, as she pulled it away; the same shade of pink that the ice cream had been.

xXx

In another place that could as close as a breath away or on the other side of the world, Peter was dreaming through the dull, relentless pain.

The morning had been chill, when he had gone into the living room early to watch cartoons, only to find his father asleep on the couch, the sheets tangled about his sprawled form. Peter had watched him for a while, listening to his father's soft breath, "Dad?" Peter asked at last, his nose beginning to run in the chill, and he shivered under his thin pajamas. He was not a dull child- he knew what this meant.

Walter's face twitched against the pillow.

"_Daaaad_?" Peter tried again, reaching out push his shoulder repeatedly.

Walter sighed, his eyes blinking open, and he squinted, "Good morning, Peter," he said hoarsely, his voice deep from his slumber, "I'm interrupting your cartoons, yes?"

"No," Peter lied.

Walter coughed, rolling onto his back to rub his eyes with his fingertips, "I'm sorry, Peter. I'm very tired."

"It's okay," Peter answered.

"Give me ten more minutes, and we'll go to the park today. Deal?" Walter smiled, shutting his eyes again.

"Okay," Peter said. He turned away, rubbing his cold arms. His father suddenly grabbed him, pulling him onto the couch and wrapping him in the sheets, "dad!" Peter giggled, struggling away as tickling fingers attacked his ribs, "stop!"

Walter smiled into his son's hair, kissing him on the forehead, "I love you, son."

It had been the last time his father had kissed him.

"Dad?" Peter asked, "Did you and mom fight again?"

Walter sighed, "No, Peter. Your mother is very tired, so I let her have the _whole_ bed, last night."

He knew that Walter was lying, "You let her have the bed every time you come home," and his father was not home very often, "is she sick?"

"No, Peter."

"Are you sick?"

Walter did not answer, shutting his eyes against the pillow.

"…You and mom aren't friends anymore, are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You fight all the time. Friends don't fight. You hate each other," Peter pulled on the front of Walter's white undershirt, biting his lip, "don't fall asleep. Don't."

"I love you and your mother very much, Peter. Please let me sleep."

"No!" Peter said, growing angry, "All you and mom do is lie to me! I'm not stupid!"

Walter opened his eyes again, "No, Peter. You are a brilliant child, of which I have no doubt. And I know what we do isn't fair, and I'm sorry. But I can't explain it, not yet."

"Are you going to leave, dad?" Peter asked, his eyes bright with welling tears, "mom says that you're going to go away, that someone is coming to get you and take you away, and I'll never see you again. Are you sick?! She said you were sick!" Peter hiccupped, rubbing away his tears with a trembling fist.

Walter swallowed, and whispered softly, "I'm not going anywhere but to the park with you today, Peter. I promise."

Another lie. But with all he was, Peter wanted to believe it.

"Come on, son," Walter smiled, ruffling his hair playfully, "don't cry. Get up and help me make pancakes- I can always use a taster. With chocolate chips, do you think?"

"Why don't you like them with eyebrows?" Peter asked, rubbing his running nose on his sleeve.

"They remind me of someone I knew a long time ago. Upsy-daisy," and he hefted his son up in his arms, setting him on his feet. Walter reached for his slacks.

But of course, he had to remember _that _day. His father and mother had fought over _pancakes_, for chrissake, and she had run Walter out of the house. Peter running to his room in furious tears as the Vista Cruiser's tires crunched the gravel in the driveway and faded away. The police returning a month later, to announce that his father had gone missing. The panicked phone calls, his mother's crying and cursing, moving into a small apartment, and, at last, Walter's funeral.

He did not want to give his father the credit for ruining his life. Time and time again, he had hoped Walter had gone to hell. Perhaps Peter's wish had come true. But, lost in his sad, distant dreams, he did not know how far Walter would go to save his precious child from his own, terrible mistakes.

xXx

OFFLINE. TIME ELAPSED: --:--:--

_SUBJECTS A24 AND O21 INCAPASITATED. AWAITING DATA FOR STAGE ONE. INICIATE STAGE TWO Y/N?

_N_

_STAGE TWO DECLINED. STATE REASON FOR SEQUENCE SUSPENSION Y/N?

_Y. Subjects A24 and O21 currently showing signs of chemical and psychological rejection. Awaiting further analysis before continuing with amnesia sequence._

_Sequence currently suspended._

xXx

_Okay, so the pancakes are an ongoing theme that I stole, and really should drop. But I can't help it *sob*!_

_~F_


	9. Chapter 9

9.

ONLINE. TIME ELAPSED: UNREGISTERED.

_FORIEGN FEED DETECTED. PREPARING TO TERMINATE. SYS. CODE: 1974

_hckff_seq?AMNESIACOMMAND1974-!.STAGE00iniciate_

_REGISTRATION OF ADMIN. REQUIRED. IMPUT NOW Y/N?

_yhckfformatHUX1984_syst.[OVERRIDE]commandsequence__:SAVAGE[?]_

_SYSTEM OVERRIDE. STAGE 00 INITIATED CONTROL SUBJECTS A21, O21 RELEASED. RADICAL SUBJECTS B22, A61 RELEASED. STATE REASON FOR SEQUENCE CHANGE Y/N?

_yhack/uYOU___SHOULDN'T_HAVE_MESSED_WITH_MY_BOY,_BELLY:(//_

There was a soft creaking noise, and her door opened in the dark.

Olivia darted to the side of the bathroom doorway, out of view. Her legs gave an angry throb of protest and she ignored them, her pulse pounding in her ears and her breath nearly still in her lungs.

They were coming, but she hadn't heard the chimes. But now was the time she could get out. She'd kill them, it didn't matter how many there were, she'd kill them _all_.

So what, if she were wearing only a towel?

Olivia waited, her sights keen and her legs trembling with ignored pain. The open door remained a black, featureless rectangle on the light-colored wall. Her heartbeats availed her, as she concentrated on keeping her pulse even to accurately keep time. 1834 heartbeats later, she dared to venture from behind the doorway and into the room, only to find herself seemingly alone.

She yanked on her clothes, her shirt becoming wet and translucent at her shoulders from her dripping hair. She twisted the damp towel in to a hard knot, something she had learned in the academy that inmates did, using them as clubbing devices. But they only worked once, before the water escaped, causing them to loose the solidity of the waters inertia. Well, she was an inmate now, wasn't she?

Dripping wad of cloth clenched in her fist, Olivia approached the door, and fearlessly crossed the threshold.

xXx

"Walter!" there was prodding at his shoulder, and his eyes sprang open as he scrambled away from the touch, frightened, "Whoa, calm down, it's just me. It's me, Astrid, remember?" The cute girl held her palms up, showing that she held nothing, and would not harm him.

Panting slightly with his back to the wall, Walter focused his blurry eyes on her, "…Astrid?"

"Yeah. Me Astrid, you Walter," she joked.

He did not understand the humor, and only stared.

"Never mind. Listen to me- does your door open and shut all the time?" Astrid asked.

"…No. Only when…" he shook his head, feeling slightly faint, "…only when they come to get me…"

"_Then why is the door open_?"

Walter looked up at her, alarmed. His eyes strayed over her shoulder, to something he had only seen once before, when she had arrived; an open door. "What did you do?!" he cried, jumping to his feet. He swayed for a few moments, light headed.

"I didn't do anything!" Astrid replied defensively, "I just woke up and it was like that, okay?!"

Walter brushed past her, approaching the open ingress. Astrid murmured warning, and he waved her off, his jaw setting in determination. First rat poison, now they were letting them run the maze? Or was this perhaps error? No, no, it couldn't be, _they didn't make mistakes…_

"You're babbling again," Astrid reminded him.

"Sorry," Walter replied distantly. Carefully, he reached out, his hand passing the threshold. He immediately retracted it with a shiver, "You have to go, miss Astrocyte. You have to go _now._"

"What? Why?" Astrid asked, "Walter, who did this? Why is it open?"

"I don't know. I DON'T KNOW. Stop asking me questions, I don't know anything, damn it!" he leaned back against the wall, racking his fingers back, thru his hair, "I don't know."

"Fine. We'll just have to find out. Let's go, Walter."

"No."

Astrid frowned with confusion, "Walter… you're not… _scared_, are you…?"

"No! Stop asking me everything, I DON'T KNOW!" Walter rubbed his face roughly, drawing a long, rattling breath as panic welled in his chest

"Walter-"

"Go, go, god damn it! It won't stay open forever!"

"You're coming with me," Astrid protested, "Now, I don't care about your weird little issues, we're getting the hell out of here."

"I can't," Walter answered. He wasn't going to cry, he wasn't going to tremble. He did anyways.

"You've got a son, Walter," Astrid said.

Walter paused from drawing blood with his teeth to his knuckles to look up at her, swallowing back the lump in his throat.

"Peter is out there. You think that no one out there cares, that's why you've been here so long, I know it. But he's your son- he cares about you. I care about you. Please, Walter… let's get out of here," she held out her hand to him, smiling softly, "Let's go."

Walter reached out to take her hand, amazed at how warm it was, as she rubbed her thumb over his knuckles comfortingly. His jaw tightened, and he nodded firmly.

xXx

The feeling that something was amiss was so nagging that it woke him from his deep, feverish dreams. Peter opened his eyes and sat up, the motion tugging at the painful cuts that spanned his shoulders. He winced, and moved more slowly.

He looked around to find the room, as ever, unchanging, all bathed in a dull, dim, blue glow, rubbing his senses dull. He focused harder, blinking and glaring with concentration.

The door was open. Peter shot to his feet, and staggered back a few steps in pain, hissing through his teeth. Now was his chance, and he would take it. Peter flexed his shoulders, tearing the wounds on them open fully and darting through the doorway and into the dark.

xXx

0FFL!N3. T!M3 3LPS3D: *+:-#:~^

_Initiate lockdown. Admin. Code: LOCKBOX._

_DM!N. 0D3 CC3PT3D. 3RR0R: L0KD0WN F!L3S 0RRUPT.

_Run code: Sweep674_

_V!RUS SW33P !N!!TED.B3G!NN!NG SYST3M SN. T!ME R3QU!R3D: 19:84:00. R3QU!R3D: SYST3M R3B00T. RUN SW33P Y/N?

_Y. Priority ALPHA._

_God damn you. You've killed us all, Bish._


	10. Chapter 10

10.

REBOOTING SYSTEM. TIME REMAINING: 19:79:30

Smooth walls, smooth floor, and he could only assume a smooth ceiling. He did not know if his footfalls, no matter how he tried to quiet them, echoed from the surface of stone or rough steel.

Peter could not see, and had stopped trying several right corners ago. He had figured that if this place had been build by someone, they would have probably put everything to the right, as the majority of people tended to be right-handed. He'd also considered that perhaps they had let him into this place on purpose, and therefore had counted on his knowledge of such things, and had put everything to the left. He ignored his second suspicion, deciding that, for once, cynicism would get him no where.

But he was getting tired. The air in the vast, unseen corridors was cold and heavy, in his lungs, and he was uncertain if it were sweat or blood that dripped from him, now. He had the horrible suspicion that he was going in circles.

As he was about to feel around along the wall for his own doorway, his toes touched something damp and cold. He retracted, his lungs painfully close to bursting as he held his breath, listening. Slowly, Peter knelt, reaching out to grab the moistness. It now registered as a wet towel, and he grimaced with confusion.

His vision flashed as something solid and heavy connected with the base of his skull, and he yelped, jarred from his balance to fall on his side. There was a quick grunt of aggression, and his throat was crushed beneath a knee. Peter struggled, gasping and choking as the pressure on his esophagus increased.

"Who are you?! Answer me!"

Peter attempted to choke out a reply, his head feeling light. He writhed weakly. The weight shifted slightly, and Peter brought his arms up, seizing his opposition and slamming them over onto the floor, holding their wrists. His eyes widened- the wrists were thin, and the body small and fragile, compared to his own- this was a woman, "Who are _you_?!" Peter demanded.

He caught a knee to the groin, and doubled over in pain as she bounced to her feet, "Olivia Dunham, FBI," she growled, panting.

"You're the cop?" Peter whimpered from the floor.

"You must be the crook. Why didn't you say so?"

"You were having such a great time strangling me that I didn't want to interrupt," Peter snapped, picking himself up and climbing to his feet.

"You shouldn't have snuck up on me," Olivia replied stiffly, "Anyways, what's your name?"

"Peter King."

"I know a bad alias when I hear it, I'm not stupid."

"…Peter Bishop. Arrest me later, would you?"

"I don't have my cuffs on me," Olivia replied. He could not tell if she were joking or not, "But you seem to have discovered my towel. Which can only mean one thing; I've been going in circles."

"How do you know?" Peter asked, wishing silently that he could see her face. Her voice sounded a little sexy, past all the formality.

"I left this towel here as a place marker. I could have passed this place a thousand times, but I don't know. Thence the towel."

"Nice thinking. Well, I can't have been going in circles," Peter reasoned.

"How's that?" Olivia asked.

"I would have met up with you, regardless of towel. I've only been making right turns. What about you?"

"Left-right-left-right. I've been counting the steps, and all of the halls seem to be the same length, from one corner to the next," Olivia sighed, "That's what doesn't make sense. I should have been going in a strait line, and I ended up back here."

"You're pretty good with those numbers, aren't you?"

"OCD. You're pretty good with screwed-up logic."

"I deal with very few logical people, in what I do. And thanks."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"Let's keep going right, and see if we end up here again," Peter said, shrugging her off, "At least it's something. Nothing we see as normal seems to work here, so let's just start with the impossible."

xXx

"This way."

"Hold on just a second, Walter!" Astrid said, leaning against the wall and panting, "We've been running around this place for hours, I'm _tired_."

She could not see him consider in the dark, "Well… I guess you wouldn't be used to the air, out here. I don't even know why I am, actually. The air in the rooms is pre-conditioned to be lighter, so naturally this would be like a run in the mountains, wouldn't it?"

"Something like that," Astrid panted with a smile, "How do you even know where we're going?"

There was a pause, "I don't know. I just know."

"If you don't know, what keeps you from running face-first into a wall?" Astrid laughed.

"I can see. Can't you?"

"No, Walter."

"Ah. I see. It could be that I've developed my sense of sight in darkness from becoming accustomed to it. How wonderfully useful." Walter seemed slightly proud of his new discovery about himself.

"Are you talking to yourself again?" Astrid questioned.

"I could leave you here, and you'd get lost." Walter said.

"No. I'd find you and kick the crap out of you," Astrid said flatly, "come on, let's get going, I'm done resting." She straitened with a sigh.

She felt Walter's hand take her wrist, beginning to lead her off down the corridor, "I'd never leave you, miss."

She hoped he was looking ahead as she reddened, "…Thanks, Walter."

"I once became so exhausted that I fell asleep eating salmon," Walter announced, "'tasted wonderful, but not too terribly comfortable as a headrest."

"Midterms that hard, huh?"

"Hmm? Oh. No. I hadn't slept in several days, alphamethylphenethylamine tends to do that, ha ha." He stopped suddenly, and she bumped her cheek on the back of his shoulder.

"Ow- Walter, what are you-"

"Shh!" he said. They were silent for a few moments, "…Do you hear that?"

"What?"

"If you would _shush_ for ten seconds, you'd hear it," Walter snapped.

Astrid sighed, and strained her ears, "I don't hear anything, Walter."

"Hmm. Perhaps I'm delusional," he shrugged, and they moved on, "but, as I was saying about the salmon-"

"Wait!" Astrid exclaimed, pulling his arm to stop him, "I-I think I _do_ hear something. Is it… kind of like a humming noise?"

"Yes- something like massive amounts of electricity moving along ungrounded wires. Perhaps a power surge, or a reserve switching on."

The noise was growing louder, until Astrid felt like her teeth were going to rattle out of her skull. It seemed to be coming from overhead, and they both looked up, "What the hell…?" Astrid breathed.

xXx

SYSTEM REBOOT. TIME REMAINING: 17:51:21


	11. Chapter 11

11.

SYSTEM REBOOT. TIME REMAINING: 17:51:20

Astrid suddenly saw a flash, leaving her dizzy and blinded, and she heard a short yelp as Walter released her hand, "Walter?!" she cried.

A few feet above them, a long fluorescent tube light flickered to life. Astrid blinked, squinting painfully as her eyes adjusted to the new, brilliant, artificial glow that flooded the long, cement hall.

Walter stood against the wall with his arms around his face, which he had pressed against the cement, hissing with pain. Astrid approached him, "Walter, are you okay?"

"It stings-!"

"What? Are you hurt?!"

"The light- turn it off-!" he pressed his palms over his eyes, "It burns my retinas!"

"You're sensitive to light!" Astrid exclaimed, "that's why you can see in total darkness; you've been out of bright elements for so long that your eyes can't take it."

"Not true. The human eye is not built to see in- just turn off the light, damn it!"

"I can't turn it off, there's no switch. And I can't break it, it's too high," Astrid said, "listen, I have an idea," she gathered the hem of her shirt, biting it and tearing it.

"What is it? What are you doing?" Walter asked, tensing.

Astrid tore off a long, uneven strip from the bottom of her shirt, "Here. Put this on like a blindfold, it should help." Slowly, painfully, Walter wrapped the makeshift gauze across his eyes and tied it at the back of his head, "There. Now just keep your eyes shut, and you should be fine."

"Good thinking, miss. Damn good," Walter said, tentatively reaching out to feel for the wall. Astrid grabbed his arm.

"Come on, Walter. I'd never leave you, either."

xXx

Olivia did not know if the place was scarier with the lights on, or the lights off. At least in the dark, she could somehow imagine each of the halls differently, even if she did not know that she had been doing it. Now, it was like an endless, featureless, grey maze of turns and hallways.

One thing, however, was not anything like she had imagined or expected; her companion.

Peter, one she had somehow placed as one of the many homely, arrogant, misogynists that she had dealt with during her entire career as a law keeper. Almost to her annoyance, he was not. He was a little paranoid, perhaps, but surprisingly handsome.

His hidden glances at her indicated that she was not what he had expected, either.

They sat down for a rest at last, and he addressed her, "Well, no towel. I guess we're on to something."

"Yes and no," Olivia replied, "We haven't found anything that makes this route distinct from any other one we could have taken. We haven't passed any doors, either."

"So my theory was incorrect," Peter sighed, "I thought that there might have been a large collection of rooms, but the sheer size of this place…" he shook his head, "there are probably only four rooms, possibly on the four corners of this place, noting its square construction, that is."

"How do you manage?" Olivia asked.

"Well, Occam's Razor, you've heard of it? The simplest answer is usually the best one. I can tell it's square for a number of reasons; no curved walls, nothing circular. I haven't seen and slanting walls, have you? No angles, so no triangle. And… this is going to sound completely crazy, but… square is the theme."

"like an 'interior decorating' type of theme?" Olivia asked flatly, "You've got to be kidding me."

"Nah. It makes sense, if you think about it. This place is massive. The point of it was to be massive, to confuse and intimidate. It had to have a 'theme' like that, to evoke the proper psychological response of hopelessness and despair and fear. Everything is _square_," Peter made the shape with his hands, "a simple geometric construct to add to this kind of primal fear, as a square translates a dungeon-esk feeling in the psyche, something inescapable. It would only show that this place, being a human construct, would not deviate from this 'theme'."

"What do you do, again?" Olivia questioned cynically, attempting to hide her astonishment as his sheer process of logical thought.

Peter laughed, "Lady, I've done a lot of things. People like you think that just because someone refuses to settle into their 'place' in life, that makes them a criminal."

"But the effort, the careful calculation of everything here," Olivia continued, ignoring his comment, "…they must have been a genius."

"Must have been," Peter agreed, "That, or a madman."

xXx

SYSTEM REBOOT. TIME REMAINING:17:40:59


	12. Chapter 12

_It's been brought to my attention that I seem to have forgotten to give credit to the mastermind behind the no-brow, chocolate chip, smily pancakes. For this, I certianly owe one Lolita Tides. Beg pardon!_

12.

SYSTEM REBOOT. TIME REMAINING: 16:00:14

Astrid paused as Walter tugged on her hand, motioning for her to stop, "What is it?" she asked as she turned to him.

"They're close," Walter said, still and alert. Light often escaped his tightly-shut eyelids every now and again, stinging like needles on his eyes and granting him a splitting headache, "They're ahead of us. By a few hours, I'd say."

"Who?"

"My son, and I can only assume Olivia. They met up, they're traveling together."

"How do you know?" Astrid asked, bewildered.

Walter paused, wondering how to phrase his logic without alarming her, "You are a police woman, correct?"

"Sort of. More of a cyber cop. Why?"

"None the less, you are aware of certain… traces that human beings leave behind."

"What are you getting at?"

"Exocrine sweat glands are the most common, and are located all over the body. The sweat it produces is practically odorless, and regulates body temperature. When the internal temperature goes up, the exocrine glands transfer water to the surface of the skin where the heat gets removed by evaporation."

"So they sweat. We sweat. So what? How do you know it's them?"

"But this is where they were when the lights came on," Walter said, smiling sheepishly, "Apocrine sweat glands are located in the armpits. They open directly into the hair follicles, rather than directly onto the surface of the skin. They secrete a fatty sweat, and it's the action of local bacteria that gives this sweat its characteristic odor. The oiliness, plus the scent, can advertise when and how the individual unconsciously began to use these glands. In this case… they became exceptionally nervous upon seeing one another. I'd say they quite like each other."

"Okay. So you… you can smell their sweat." Astrid said, a note of nausea in her voice, "That's probably the grossest thing I've ever heard."

"Sorry."

"But it's brilliant, I have to admit. You haven't been smelling me, have you?" Astrid said, half-joking.

"It's only a chemical reaction, miss Aspire. But…"

"Oh gawd, I don't want to know!" Astrid squealed, "That is so nasty!"

"We have to hurry, miss. I know how odd this sounds, but I think I may be loosing the scent," Walter wondered if she saw how red his ears were becoming, as he shook away thoughts of perspiration glistening on her perfect, dusky-colored skin…

"Okay, but no more talk about sweat, alright? It's just really gross."

"Alright." Walter replied, "Right, at the next corner, please."

Astrid took his hand, a bit more tentatively, this time, and they continued on, "And after that?"

"Right again. Just keep going right. I have a theory."

xXx

"Are you hungry?" Peter asked. He had found that even now that the lights were on, the only thing he had to look at was her- it certainly made things awkward, as they had both set their sights strait ahead.

"Does it matter?" Olivia responded, as they rounded yet another featureless cement corner.

"I guess not," Peter answered, "I was just worrying, you know. What if we're stuck here for… a while?"

"We'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen," Olivia replied with a smile.

"See, now that- you're starting to seem like a person, and less like a government-controlled robot," Peter smirked, "careful careful."

"Then I'll stop," Olivia replied with a grin, "You keep your logic going like it is, I'm going to draft you for the FBI."

"Aw, hell no," Peter laughed, "I'm not available for reprogramming, sorry."

Olivia was about to retaliate, when they both froze, hearing a noise. Peter jumped and spun on his heel as something touched his shoulder, his eyes wide.

"Oh!" someone exclaimed, "I, um, I didn't mean to frighten you, I'm can't help but be very quiet…" the stranger took a few steps backward, his senses piqued in every direction, as he was blindfolded, "Peter? Is- is that you, son…?"

"Who are you?" Peter asked, gaping.

"My name is Walter Bishop."

"Glassmouth?" Olivia questioned.

"Walter?" someone peeked out from around the corner. It was a girl with a halo of curls and wide, onyx-colored eyes, "is it alright?"

"Who are you?!" Peter cried, and Walter shed away from the noise slightly, "what the hell is going on?!"

"Agent Astrid Farnsworth," the girl responded, approaching them, "Walter and I have been looking for you guys. You must be Peter and Olivia."

"How did you find us?" Olivia asked.

"Let's just say it's a method I'd rather not use again," Astrid said with a slightly sick looking grin.

"What's wrong with him?" Peter asked gruffly, frowning at Walter.

"Walter can't see in such bright lights, being in the dark so long screwed up his eyes," Astrid explained.

"Great. So he's blind."

"I'm not blind," Walter said.

"Yeah?" Peter raised his hand in front of his blindfolded face, waving it slightly, "Looks like you're pretty blind to me-" He jumped as Walter seized his forearm in a blur of movement.

"I'm not blind," Walter repeated, his fingers loosening, and he dropped Peter's arm, "I just can't see."

"Wait- I've seen you before," Olivia said, taking a closer look at Walter, who shifted under her gaze "yes… you won some sort of award a long time ago for some sort of theory, right?"

"Um, I developed a sociological theory on the effects of communism on mass mentality," Walter answered hopefully, "I don't remember winning any awards, however. Just a lot of painful criticism, I'm afraid."

"I remember the news articles from the database. They only got around to realizing the full potential of the ideas after you…" Olivia trailed away.

"What? After what? I got an award, how exciting!" Walter exclaimed happily.

"After you died," Peter finished flatly.

Walter looked taken aback, "Oh."

The lights flickered, and they all glanced up in fear "We should probably get moving," Astrid suggested, "now that all of us are here, we should be able to properly navigate, without having to play catchup."

"But we're still lost," Olivia said.

"No we're not," Peter and Walter said at once, and glanced at each other in surprise.

"How do you know?" Peter asked cynically.

"I'm crazy, and therefore don't have to explain _anything_," Walter replied stiffly, crossing his arms across his chest, "Just like your mother, questioning my every motive."

Peter rolled his eyes, "Whatever. Anyways, what I mean is that it seems that this labyrinth might in fact be shaped something like a spiral, leading those trapped within to the center."

"Like a whirlpool," Olivia said, nodding, "I'd thought of that. If we keep taking rights, it'll eventually lead us to the center, whereas if we start taking lefts, we'll make it to the outside, and strait back to our cells."

"But if we end up in the center, how do we get out then?" Astrid asked, "There can't possibly be a way out that way, we'd only go past the center and essentially start taking lefts. There'd be no way out."

"Such uncharacteristic pessimism," Walter chuckled, and paused, "Oh, I'm sorry. Please continue, son."

"Nah, I'm done. As much as it sucks, logically, the only way out of here is up or down, when we reach the center, which we may have even passed already. She's right; there's no way out."

"But you just said it- _up_ or _down_. If I may explain," Walter straitened himself, pleased at the opportunity to teach once more, "You are still thinking of this along the lines of a two-dimensional thing, such as a maze on a piece of paper. Now, normally speaking, that would work, and we would have only to run the gauntlet to its eventual conclusion. But this place may in fact work in _levels,"_ Walter paused, looking thoughtful, "the only thing that I can place as a reasonable faxn is one of those old wooden box mazes."

Peter had to stop him, "Whoa, hold up. What you're suggesting is just a complicated way of explaining that we've been walking in circles?"

"Not so complicated. Imagine, if you would, a two-dimensional strip. Twist the strip once, and bring the ends to meet. You have just taken on a third dimension."

"A Möbius strip," Astrid said, touching her fingertip to her lips in thought, "But we're already three-dimensional, so you're suggesting a fourth dimension?"

"This is impossible, Walter," Peter growled, "You know it, so why are you wasting our time?"

"It has been suggested on a number of occasions that the fourth dimension is time. So bending the third dimension in which we exist would in turn manifest time in a manner of a dimension we could physically experience," Walter said, "and perhaps manipulate."

"He's saying we're stuck in a time Möbius," Peter grumped, "doomed to continually retrace our steps in time endlessly. There, doesn't that just cheer you up?"

"We need to find the elevator," Walter shrugged.

"What elevator?" Olivia questioned.

"I'm only hoping it's an elevator, because I don't like stairs. They make my knees hurt," Walter replied.

"He means that we need to stop working on the x-axis and start working on the y-axis," Peter said, "if we elect to go up or down, we break the strip by jumping the track and landing in another place in time."

"I'm so proud of you, son," Walter murmured.

"How?" Astrid questioned, "We can't dig, we can climb. We're stuck."

"It's going to hurt," Walter warned in sing song, "and I've never done it devoid of my sight. But I think I can manage."

xXx

SYSTEM REBOOT. TIME REMAINING: 14:56:48


	13. Chapter 13

13.

SYSTEM REBOOT. TIME REMAINING: 14:45:03

_FILE CHECK. BASIS OF IMPUT: THE BASIC PRINCIPLE OF THE AMNESIA MACHINE.

__

_In order to maintain greater control over all citizens, the repression of civil liBertIes createS intellectual anestHesia, and the reinfOrcement of Perfect allegiance. _

__

His fingers slid up each of the bruised and cut lengths of her legs in turn, his hands at last finding their place of rest on her inner thigh, a few inches above the knee. He pressed his fingertips carefully against her damaged flesh, raising his head slightly, listening for any hint of protest. She was silent, lightly resting her palms on his shoulders for support. He could hear the soft hiss of her breath through her nostrils.

He would try to be gentle about it.

He drew the plastic needle down quickly, splitting the wound. Before she had a chance to respond, he jabbed it under the edge of the disk, prying it up. "Walter-!" He felt a sharp pain at the back of his neck as her fingernails pierced his skin and she bared her teeth with a soft grunt of pain. He could tell that Olivia was the type of woman that could not tolerate pain without causing a bit of her own.

How exceedingly attractive.

Walter plucked the chip from her leg as she retracted her claws from his flesh, breathing through her teeth, "All done," Walter said cheerfully, and she took the disk from him, "I'm very sorry, I know it was not pleasant."

"Yeah. Sorry about your neck, I…"

"It's nothing," he took a strip of Peter's torn shirt from Astrid, winding it around her thigh, "nothing compared you, I think."

"I can't say much for your method of detection," Peter grumbled disapprovingly, holding a rag over the open wound on his scapula.

Walter's ears heated slightly, "I have not yet found a more effective method," he answered reasonably, "It any other instance I would have extracted it differently."

"What are these things?" Olivia asked, taking Peter's hand and getting to her feet.

"I am uncertain. But to be rid of them will help us, I know it," Walter rubbed away the blood from his hands on the front of his shirt as he stood, "We pay the price of being unable to benefit from their aid and healing properties, but I also believe they are the very thing causing the lapses."

"So you're saying that we're forgetting that we're walking in circles?" Astrid questioned.

But still, the brains tended to be more alluring than the fangs, "The Möbius is metaphysical, really. If we are now aware of our continuous passage of consciousness, we then become able to manipulate it."

"So… we're aware, now," Astrid said, "and we can finally see where we're going."

"So where next?" Olivia asked, leaning on Peter slightly for support, "we've got these things out of us, but we still can't split the strip or whatever."

Peter seemed to take her leaning as a slight sign of trust, "Well, if we're going on a theory that goes completely against the laws of physics, I'd say tap our heels together and call for Toto."

"I used to teach physics! That was it, physics, hah. Good times."

"Dr. Bishop, you have to try and focus," Astrid said, and the lights flicked and surged again as she took his elbow, "You seem to know a lot about this place, so you have to tell us what to do, now."

"We have to start walking again," Peter frowned at Walter, whom was lost in inattentive memories with a wide grin on his face, "There's no telling how long the lapses have been, or how far between. We could have been here minutes, hours, maybe even days."

"That's how I forgot my counting," Olivia realized, "every other time, I could never stop the numbers. But lately, I've been able to stop them… because I keep forgetting that I'm counting."

Walter had returned to coherence, "An interesting hypothesis has been raised. Perhaps you were controlling these lapses yourself, although I am unable to find a conclusive method of manipulation. A pity I've now removed the disks, we could have tested it."

"It doesn't matter, now. Finding a way out of here before we run out of anything important- namely patience- is what matters," Peter said.

"I hate walking," Olivia grumbled painfully.

Peter wondered if he should offer to carry her, but his thoughts were interrupted as the lights flickered and died, plunging them into the dark. Olivia's hands tightened on his arm, and he suddenly had the urge to cover and protect her. But his bruised throat reminded him not to do anything stupid- she was still a cop.

xXx

Astrid stood perfectly still in the dark, her heart hammering in her chest, and her eyes wide and panicked. Something cold touched her hand, and she immediately retracted it with a gasp, "Walter!" She cried before she could stop herself.

"What's going on?" he questioned in the dark, still blindfolded.

"Walter, something's touching me!" Astrid said, her voice slightly higher than she had wanted it to be as cold brushed her abdomen.

"What…?" there was a shifting, and she could only assume he had removed his blindfold, "…Oh."

"What is it?!" Astrid demanded.

"It's, um… it's nothing," Walter replied sheepishly.

Astrid frowned, "It's you, isn't it?" she questioned flatly.

"No," he lied, "But see that the lights have gone out again. This is problematic, for you three, at least."

"You can really see in the dark?" Peter questioned.

There was silence for a while, and the dreaded notion crossed Astrid's mind that Walter had left them. There was a small, odd noise, something a sharp inhale and a sob.

"Oh. You look just like your mother, Peter." Walter whispered.

There was a scuffle, "Don't touch me!" Peter exclaimed, "What the hell is wrong with you?! I'm not your kid, you're screwed up in the head!"

"'Sorry," Walter replied, clearing his throat.

"Dark or not, we need to get moving," Olivia said, "If you can see, even better. I say we hit the walls again, and keep going right. We may have to walk the whole way again, but it'd be a better bet than turning and doing lefts again."

"It's just a ways up ahead," Walter said gruffly, and Astrid felt him take her hand once more, and it felt slightly damp when she realized that he had wiped away tears.

"How do you know?" Peter question, his voice even more cynical than his messages had been.

"I don't know how I know. Maybe I remember, maybe I can smell the fresh air. I don't know. Everyone keeps asking me things I don't know, and it's getting annoying," He lead Astrid along, and she shut her eyes, deciding long before that it was the easiest way to traverse the dark halls.

What could have been hours in the silence passed, the only numbing noise being their soft footfalls, and the gentle scrape of fingers along the walls.

"Walter, do you feel something?" Astrid asked suddenly, and he paused, "not like when the lights came on, it's something else."

"A vibration," Olivia said, "I feel it, too."

"It's a fan," Peter answered.

"How…?"

"Stop a second and feel. The walls are moving, but the vibrations are being emitted from the ceiling. And Walter's right- the air is colder and heavier. We must be near some sort of ventilation," Peter reasoned.

"Is he always like this?" Astrid questioned with an amused smile.

"Pretty much," Olivia responded.

"As usual, I will blindly accept that as a compliment," Peter grumbled.

"Don't put your hand there, Olivia," Walter warned quietly, "there's a hole, and I don't want it to scare you."

"A hole…?"

"Careful. Ah!" Walter let out a quiet laugh of amusement, "Eureka!"

Before any of the three could demand what he meant, there was a soft sound of chimes, and Astrid's eyes sprang open, taking in the marvel of a blindingly white doorway.

"El-li-va-tor!" Walter mused in singsong, blinking and squinting with ignored pain. Astrid, Olivia and Peter gaped in amazement, and Walter re-donned his blindfold before their attention could be returned to his freakishly pale irises.

"The chimes were a god-damn elevator," Olivia breathed, reaching out to touch the shining steel threshold, "unbelievable."

"Well, there is good news," Peter said with a grin, "It's not stairs."

xXx

SYSTEM REBOOT. TIME REMAINING: 12:48:09

_UNKNOWN FEED DETECTED. SECURITY MEASURES DISABLED.

yhckfformatEVER676_syst.[OVERRIDE]physicalcommand12:SAVAGE[!]

_ADMIN. ACCEPTED. IMPUT COMMAND.

yhck[COMMAND]_'up'_//

_COMMAND ACCEPTED. REROUTING POWER TO OBSERVATION LEVEL ELEVATOR 745.


	14. Chapter 14

14.

SYSTEM REBOOT. TIME REMAINING: 12:46:54

_Administrator override. Initiate scan index for radical subject A61._

_SCAN IN PROGRESS.

_SUBJECT DETECTED.

_Run observation program command: SEPTEMBER. Set for retrieval mode._

__OBSERVER EN ROUTE. IMPUT REASON FOR MEASURE, Y/N?_

_n._

"Were are we going?" Peter asked his father at last.

"Up, I can only assume," Walter answered simply, as he shut the face panel of the computer, and the elevator doors slid shut.

"How did you do that?"

"I don't know."

Peter's eyes narrowed, "You have to know. You can't just hack an unfamiliar system an _not know_. How do you know all of this, about the amnesia disks, the way to the elevator, and a way to hack in?"

Walter shrugged, "Why don't you shave?"

Peter's face seemed frozen in abrupt shock.

"More for the matter," Walter mused, rubbing his own chin, "Who keeps _me_ clean shaven?"

"Peter's right," Astrid said seriously, "Judging by this system, it's not an easy thing to hack. I couldn't even do it, and it's my job. Walter, I know there's something you're not telling us. You've always known something."

Walter seemed uncomfortable, in his corner of the brightly lit elevator, like an out-of-place shadow, "The elevator is stopping."

"What?"

There was the slight lurching feeling of weightlessness, and the elevator slowed. Peter, Olivia, and Astrid glanced at each other in silent alarm, and Walter only seemed to wedge into his corner more, with a soft murmur of "Oh, dear."

Olivia nodded to Peter to take a stance on the opposite side of the ingress, and he obeyed as they stood at the ready, as there was a soft chiming noise that sent shivers down their spines. Astrid swallowed with worry, taking to the vacant back corner.

The reflective steel doors slid open mutely to give a view into a long, white hallway that resembled that of an empty hospital ward, obscured only by a dark, singular form. His appearance was so disarming that they only stood perfectly still, staring.

He was human enough, save his paper-white complexion, which seemed to glow against his dark suit. As he stepped forward, and his flawless face was completely devoid of expression, even lacking eyebrows or hair which might have hinted at a personality.

"Hello," he said tonelessly, and raised a pistol in his hand. There was a flash of light and a harsh, high whirring noise, and Walter slumped against the back wall of the elevator lifelessly. The pale stranger stepped forward into the small room, stooping to grasp Walter by the collar and turn, dragging him out, "excuse me."

At last, Peter jumped to his senses, starting after him, "Hey! Walter!"

The blank stranger turned, firing another shot into Peter's chest, expelling him back into the elevator. Olivia exclaimed, stooping to his fallen form to shake him.

Astrid looked up at the pair disappearing down the hall, calling, "Walter!" as the elevator doors slid shut.

xXx

The lights marking each floor passed wordlessly as Peter twisted on the floor, "Jesus Christ," he managed at last, raising his hand to his chest, touching Olivia's.

"There's no bullet, and you aren't dead," Olivia smiled, "I don't know what kind of weapon that was, but I've never seen anything like it."

"I've never even seen a _person_ like that," Astrid said, shaking her head, "and Walter…"

Peter sat up quickly, ignoring the bruise, "Where's Walter? What happened to him?" he demanded.

"That guy just took him. He shot you, and the doors shut before we could do anything," Olivia replied, "I'm sorry, Peter."

Peter muttered a curse under his breath, "Just like the old bastard to go off and leave me again."

Olivia and Astrid looked at each other, "Peter, is Walter really your father? Or are you just letting him think what he wants to think about you?"

Peter sighed, and was silent for a few moments. "I don't know. Really, I don't. but… I don't know, this is all so crazy, I don't know what to make of it."

"Just _talk_, Peter," Olivia said.

"Look, it doesn't matter. We all have to get out of here, you said it yourself," Peter said shortly.

"But why Walter?" Astrid said, "That guy could have taken any of us, even all of us, while we just _stood _there. Why Walter?"

"I don't know!" Peter snapped, "I don't even know the guy, okay?! I was in the middle of a security scam when I ended up here, alright?!"

"Security scam?" Olivia questioned.

"Yeah. I was hired to construct a bunch of systems for a few major corporations. I'd planned on cracking the systems afterward and disappearing with a bit of their cash. I've done it before, no one else caught on," Peter said, for an unexplainable reason feeling suddenly ashamed of his actions. He didn't even seem the same person, anymore…

Astrid was staring at him, "You bastard- it was _you_!"

xXx

September propped his listless captive against the wall, kneeling as he delved into his dark coat, drawing out a short, squat hypodermic. He bit the protective plastic cover on the needle and pulled it off, spitting it away. Carefully, he pressed the thick, cold steel tube into Walter's neck, squeezing the clearish-pink contents into his bloodstream.

September removed the needle quickly as Walter stirred, coughing as he raised his hand to his chest. He blinked his eyes open, and squinted on instinct, "I've turned off the security lighting in this sector," September informed him, "And I am, as you, perfectly capable of nocturnal navigation."

"That's nice of you," Walter coughed, sitting up to rub his sore chest, "but you didn't have to shoot me."

"Swiftness was elementary in your extraction from the other subjects," September answered. He was silent for a few moments, as Walter cleared his head, "are you well, Dr. Bishop?"

"You _shot_ me, September."

"You remember me."

"Your name, anyways. The details of our previous engagements seem to escape me," Walter admitted, raising his shirt to look down at the oval-shaped bruise near the middle of his chest, "Jeezy-chreezy. Nice shot."

"You were at point-blank range," September said dismissively, "Walter, do know where you are?"

"Yes… and no. Where are the others?"

"They have arrived in section five. Elevator seven-forty-five does not go to the surface, it would be a foolish flaw in design."

"So this place is underground."

"More or less," September responded, certain that the admittance of this fact would neither hinder nor help their chances of escape, "We are in section ten. Do you know what section ten is, Walter?"

"Observation deck. Did you hurt them?" Walter asked, unable to manifest much malfeasance in his aching state.

"They will survive," September said, "what do you remember about this place, Walter?"

"Nothing, really. Have I ever been here?" Walter asked, and September stood, offering him a hand up.

"You have been here a great many times," September said, as Walter took his offered help, standing, "However, I cannot extend much to you in the details. Please follow me."

"You're the one that was editing us, on the thread," Walter said as he fell into step behind him, "aren't you?"

"You know that."

Walter nodded, catching up to walk at September's side, "There's a lot about you that I know, I think. And you me. But I can't remember it, I fear."

"Things will become clearer soon, I assure you," September responded, "this is all going to end soon."

Walter was silent, deciding not to voice his unfinished questions.

The heels of September's shoes snapped on the floor tiles sharply down the empty halls, the echoes softened by the footfalls of Walter's bare feet shuffling along, "It's awfully white, in here," Walter muttered disapprovingly, "I don't much like white."

"You never did," September conceded.

It appeared that, at last, Walter had decided on a question, "Who shaves me?" he asked.

"I do not know. This way," September said, turning to open a door. He allowed Walter to enter before him.

"Do you shave?"

September did not answer him as they stepped onto a round lift, and he pressed a button, the lift quickly descending into the floor. September looked over at Walter, who only smiled at him, "You've changed," September said.

"Oh? How so?"

September returned his attention to the lighted numbers above the lighted lift door, "Never mind." September's memories strayed to a different man that had stood beside him in the same way, an arrogant, cruel man… a man that he hated.

They reached their desired floor and departed from September's cold memories, making their way down a smaller, narrower hall, open doors branching away at either side. Their objective was the double-doors at the far end, and September stopped Walter as they neared, "It will be bright," he warned.

"Thanks for the heads-up," Walter smiled.

September had to shake the eerie feeling of fear from himself as he pushed open the doors, giving way onto a wide, steel-mesh plateau that surrounded a large, open, glass tank of dark water, abysmally deep and circular. Thousands of blue, humming computer screens faced in on the tank, awaiting input.

Walter seemed impressed as he examined the monitoring machinery that lined the walls, all attached to the water-filled cylinder in the middle of the sub-leveled room, "Wow. What's all of this?"

"You made it," September said emotionlessly.

"Did I? What's it for?" Walter smiled, obviously thinking the entire affair a joke.

"Forgetting." September approached Walter as he was looking over the edge of the deck into the open top of the cylinder.

No. He couldn't. He'd kill him, if he went against him…

September gripped Walter by the throat and thrust him over the edge of the sublevel. Walter exclaimed and struggled, clawing at September's outstretched arm, his eyes wide with surprise.

For once, September's face gathered with remorse, "I'm sorry. You seem like a good man, now." he said quietly, and released his captive to plummet into the tank, thrashing as he sputtered and gasped at the surface. September took aim with his pistol and fired, Walter letting out a cry and falling silent as he drifted from the surface and down into the murky depths of the water, blood swirling like red threads from the wound, dead center between his eyes.

The countless screens flickered on, like thousands of eyes watching him drift. September's jaw set, as he moved to the main console.

xXx

REBOOT SUSPENDED. TIME REMIANING: --:--:--

_COMMAND: SEPTEMBER CURRENTLY SUSPENDED.

_System request: state admin. authority for suspension._

_ADMIN. CURRENTLY UNAVALIBLE. COMMAND: SEPTEMBER CURRENTLY RADICAL.

_What the hell are you doing, September?_

__REQUEST UNRECOGNIZED._

_Do not wake him up, September, I'm warning you._

__REQUEST UNRECOGNIZED._

_FEED START FILE 000. INICIATE RECALL SEQUENCE, Y/N?

_n. What the hell are you doing?!_

_ADMIN. UNRECOGNIZED. REQUEST UNRECOGNIZED. BEGINNING RECALL SEQUENCE FILE 000.

_Administrator command: abort recall sequence.  
__ADMIN. UNRECOGNIZED. REQUEST UNRCOGNIZED. FORIEGN FEED DETECTED. PREPARING TO TERMINATE. SYS. CODE: 1974.

_Septemb_

_FEED TERMINATED.

xXx


	15. Chapter 15

_-deep breath- Okay, here we go..._

15.

REBOOT SUSPENDED. TIME REMAINING: --:--:--

_MANUAL CONTROL DISABLED. SYSTEM SELF-SCAN ENABLED.

_REGULATION RELAYS UNDETECTED. BEGIN SEQUENCE Y/N?

_y._

_BEGINNING RECALL SEQUENCE FILE 000.

December 9th, 1974.

He could hear them muttering, whispering to each other, watching him pass. Most of the time he ignored it, but every now and again he would catch a tiny tone of fear in their hushed mumblings, and this would create an invisible curl at the sides of his lips. They were only afraid because they couldn't control what was already happening.

"You seem to know a great deal about communism, Dr. Bishop. Perhaps too much. Would you care to define your sources?"

"Indeed. I have preformed extensive studies on the subject, all of which have been immensely scrutinized-"

"This is only because your methods warrant such scrutiny!"

"The scientific community has become far too busy pointing fingers and questioning methods in what has became a nationwide witch hunt that they have failed to fathom the possibilities, however remote they may be, of the effects communism has had on the general public!"

"Are you saying we should openly embrace a form of government that threatens even the basis of our society, Dr. Bishop?!"

"I do not. I am simply pointing out the way that communism has been used to control and manipulate every aspect of the average citizen's existence by the enforcement and general terrorization our government has forced upon them."

"What are you implying, Dr. Bishop?!"

"Communism- or the misguided concept that we have been force-fed by the government- is nothing more than self-inflicted terrorism. It is only a phantasm created for control."

xXx

March 8th, 1992.

A roadside diner off the side of the highway that ran, twisting and turning, through the everglades. Walter couldn't remember what he had been doing there, just that he was upset, and had a spot of pink ice cream on his tie. He was stooping to lick it off when someone knocked on the countertop. Walter looked up- he knew this man.

William Bell gave him a winning smile, "Hey, Bish-fish."

"Hello, Belly."

"I came as soon as I got your message. How y' holding up?" William slid onto the bar bench beside him, his knees just brushing the underside of the cabinetry as he folded his long legs under himself.

"Marriage sucks," Walter pouted, and William laughed.

"A little late for that, isn't it? What'd she say?"

"What _didn't_ she say? But she's right, Belly. All of it- she's right about all of it, damn it. Peter, he knows, he told me this morning that all we do is lie to him… and…"

"And what, Bish-fish?" William asked gently, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"She's getting the papers finalized for the institution," Walter said, a glimmering tear striking the lens of his thick glasses as he hung his head. It rolled off as he raised his hands to bury his fingers into his hair, "I read the letters on her desk last night! And she's already told Peter, damn it-!"

"Calm down, Walter," William said, "You said she only threatened with the institution. She'd never send you back, Walter, I don't know how she could…"

"I don't want to go back, William! I can't stand it there!" He grabbed his friend's shirt front, crying desperately, "I'll kill myself, before I go back! And Peter-" Walter choked, releasing William, "having a mad man as a father…" he covered his face in his hands, weeping softly.

"You're not mad, Walter," William said, putting an arm across his trembling shoulders, "you've told me yourself. You just had a few problems, as a child… but that was all sorted out years ago. It doesn't matter, now. And, I promise… you'll never go back to St. Claire's."

xXx

June 10th, 1992.

The small, suburban street was so filled with onlookers that it was rather difficult for the semi trucks to pass, more or less the massive constructs of machinery strapped to each of the trailers to go unnoticed, "I thought you said this town would be cleared," Walter hissed to William in the off-driver's seat, whom only shrugged at the gathering masses, standing on their lawns and pointing.

"These things take time, Bish," William answered, "It's not easy to convince people to just leave their homes for no reason. But don't worry, the compound is much farther removed from the town."

"They're still disrupting the transportation route," Walter grumped, "the simple traffic would generate questions and curiosities better left alone. You know what this means."

William smiled slightly, "Free ice cream?"

Walter nodded with a dark smile of his own, "Free ice cream."

Walter could remember a sweet smell of something blooming, coupled with the scent of hot rubber tires and fresh asphalt. The taste of a slightly warm beer, as he and William toasted the humming pulse of the Amnesia machine, deep in the compound, far from the eyes of the government, God, or his wife and son.

xXx

January 22, 1993.

"Specimen September seems to be having problems, Bish."

"_Again_? I'll be damned if it isn't the new chips. March and February were having trouble with them, as well… before they were terminated. I doubt September will accept them…"

"We can't loose him, Walter. He's one of our most advanced specimens to date. We'll have to take a trip down…"

"I hate going down there. But the Months specimens are far less trouble than the Savages…"

"Oh. I forgot to tell you. B34 gave out on us, last night."

"What?!"

"Suicide. She had been showing signs of depression, and her diet wasn't going well, regardless of the supplements we forced on her during the tests. She starved herself to death."

"Damn it, I think this whole place is falling apart! She was the last of the Savages, then?!"

"The Savage control subjects are catatonic. Minimal fluctuation in recall. It seems we can void their memory banks well enough with the anesthesia… but it leaves them vegetables. The only thing we seem to able to put stock in are the Months…"

"And we've just got word to terminate them. Grand. Well, let's go and have a look at September, see if we can't convince Nina to keep him."

The steel door slid away from its place on the concrete wall, disappearing silently in the doorframe, "He's a radical specimen Month. What happened to his partner?" Walter asked quietly.

"That's just the problem," William answered, "He's killed him. I know it's normal for the Savage radicals, but it is a serious aggression for the Months."

"Hmm. Well, let me have a look at him."

"He's always liked you quite a lot, Walter," William grinned.

Walter laughed quietly, and entered the room, William standing at the door, and syringe of sedative in the wide pocket of his lab coat.

Walter silently paced across the room, his shoes careful to avoid the crusted and sticky spots and spatters of blood on the carpet. He only chanced a casual glance at the corpse, face down in the middle of the room, as he entered the bathroom, "September?" he questioned softly.

A pale form cowered on the tiles of the dripping shower, trembling as he panted with fear. Walter carefully knelt outside the stall door, offering his hands to show that they were empty, "September, do you hear me?"

September looked up at him, his grey trousers and tank saturated with red. His face was filled with fear and shame, and several long, gagged scratches, apparently from fingernails, spanned his white cheek, "Don't be afraid. It's me, Dr. Bishop. Are you alright, September?"

"He tried to kill me," September said, his voice very small.

"December tried to kill you? Did he give you those lacerations?"

Whimpering as he covered his hairless head with his pail and trembling arms, September nodded, "Yes, Dr. Bishop."

"You'd better let me have a look at them. Do you feel bad for what you did, September?"

"Yes, Dr. Bishop."

Walter moved into the shower, moving September's arms away from his protective stance. He placed a hand on September cheek gently, "You mustn't. It had to be done. You had to defend yourself."

September moved into the warm touch slightly.

"September, Dr. Bell is waiting outside-"

September immediately shank away.

"No, no, no," Walter said gently, smiling, "We just need to take you up to the machine for a bit, and run a few tests. You needn't be afraid. Will you come with us, September?"

September shook his head quickly, looking frightened.

"Come on now, September. Will you come with me, then?" Walter offered his hand.

After a few moments of silent hesitation, September reached out to take Walter's hand. Still smiling at him warmly, Walter lead September out of the room, before William jammed a needle into the side of September's neck. He gave a cry, and collapsed onto the cement, "Get a stretcher down here and get him to the observation deck," Walter sighed, as if bored, "then get him into the tank, and wipe his short-terms."

xXx

May 6th, 2001.

Walter woke in a daze, lying face-up, strapped to a hospital gurney, "What-what's all of this…?" his eyes widened as he saw that he wore the grey patient uniform of the compound, "What's happening…?"

"Oh, you're up," William said cheerfully, leaning over his gurney. His friend looked frighteningly older, his dark hair now peppered with grey and white, his face creased at the edges with wrinkles. His smile, however, had lost none of it's brilliance, "sorry, I can't dim the lights just yet."

"Belly, what…where…?"

"You're on the observation deck. I doubt you remember much of anything, do you?"

"…No." William touched Walters' numb chest, and the motion made Walter inhale sharply with pain.

William frowned at the blood on his gloves, "Hmm. Well, it seems that regardless of the measures we're taking to insure your complete amnesia, you still seem to recollect certain aspects of your past." William smiled again, "You're a tough cookie, Bish-fish."

"What are you talking about? What is going on?!"

"Your papers on the effects of communism, you remember those? Perhaps you don't. The recollection sequence has its problems, to be sure. But I'll explain it to you the best I can- you're part of the Amnesia Machine now, Walter."

xXx

_You're an idiot, Belly. You always were an idiot. The Amnesia Machine exists on the _outside_. This place… it's nothing. A failure, no matter how you look at it. I've only gone along because I, too, had foolish hopes for its success. If you could make me, a man with faith in nothing, forget everything and be lead to believe blindly, there would be hope for us. But it's hopeless. We're doomed. I know that, now. Human kind will always be anchored by humanity, and we'll all die, someday._

_This- you see all of this? This hell I've created?- it's nothing. The Amnesia Machine is an idea, a seed, much like the ones inserted into our wounds, only in the mind. What is the Amnesia Machine? It is society. It is everything. All that you see, all that you touch, all of it is manipulated._

_Why?_

_Control. It is virtually impossible to find new enemies, outside of our own. In order to maintain greater control over all citizens, the repression of civil liberties creates intellectual anesthesia, and the reinforcement of unquestioning faith. The masses will soon know nothing of what makes them human- the savages will cease to exist. What the masses see on television, the music that they hear, the things they read, even the colors they see on advertisements, all of them images of the horrible things they will experience, makes them callous to it. Society has slowly come to shun the show of emotion, the thing that makes us human, not useless lumps of flesh capable of everything and striving for nothing._

_How do I know this?_

_Because I created , perfect Communism, where even thenumbness of thought is shared._

_Why?_

_Because I could._

_Why didn't it work?_

_Because we're all too human. Humans are quite prone to error. And there are some things we just can't seem to forget. _

_Like love, I guess, however lame and cliché that may sound. Even crazy people are capable of that, although I can't say exactly why._

_Like a little boy who likes pancakes and Saturday morning tickle fights. Even if he's what, twenty-six, now? Something like that?_

_Like a tall man, very pale, very bald. The only one, I think, that has forgiven me._

_Like the legs of a shapely blonde, wink wink._

_But quite unlike the name of a certain girl I know… she's cute, and, contrasting my previous conceptions, useful after all._

_September is right- I'm not me, anymore. Or whoever I was, back then. That guy was a bit of a bastard, I fear._

_Good-bye, Dr. Bishop._

xXx

_RECALL SEQUENCE ABORTED. STATE REASON FOR TERMINATION Y/N?

_n._

_MANUAL CONTROL ENABLED. SYSTEM SELF-SCAN ENABLED. REINITIATING REBOOT SEQUENCE.

_

SYSTEM REBOOT. TIME REMAINING: 10:18:12.

xXx


	16. Chapter 16

16.

SYSTEM REBOOT. TIME REMAINING: 10:18:13.

"What?" Peter questioned blankly.

"You _bastard_! You said no one noticed- _I_ noticed! I've been tracking you for five years, since you did a number on that system for a sub-government contractor! Running spy ware on all of the systems you've damaged, hunting down tattered bits of coding from all over the place- it was _you _that ran me all over hell and back!" Astrid advanced, looking, for the first time she could remember, in this place, furious.

Olivia stilled her, "Calm down, Astrid. I know that I should be the last one to be saying this, but what we did on the outside doesn't matter, right now. As soon as we get out of here, I don't care if you beat the hell out of him, but right now, we have to focus."

"Only if you hold his arms," Astrid huffed, glaring at Peter.

"Deal."

"Thanks, ladies," Peter grumbled, climbing to his feet, "but I suppose there are worse things than getting the hell beat out of me by two chicks, even if they are cops."

Their comments drew to a close as the elevator slowed to a stop, and the door opened quite suddenly, their breaths catching in their throats as they each froze with fear. Moments of silence passed, without movement, and at last they looked at each other, "Well," Peter said reasonably at last, his eyes flicking from his companion's faces to the darkness that lay beyond the open doorway of the elevator, "I guess this is our floor."

"The lights on the door say that this is the highest floor we can get to," Astrid said, "I guess it's just footwork, from here…" she swallowed uneasily.

"Let's get going," Olivia said, seeming to grow bored of her own suspicions. She stood from her crouched position beside Peter and offered him a hand up.

They stepped out, and the doors shut behind them, leaving them in what they feared was another bout of darkness. But, as their eyes began to adjust to the gloom of the less-than-brilliant lighting, they found themselves in what appeared to be a large warehouse filled with machinery.

"This must be the main maintenance," Astrid said, looking slightly awed at the sprawling constructs of gears and humming ventilation pipes and grates, "for the air conditioning, probably."

"You seem impressed," Olivia said elevating a brow.

"I am," Astrid admitted truthfully, "I mean, just look at this place- it's brilliant. The air is sucked up, re-oxidized, and re-circulated with the use of steam. The air can be re-used literally countless times, and the steam is being produced by the air movement creating the heat itself… it's simple, but… brilliant."

"_Someone _was a good little steampunk," Peter mused.

"It's also being conditioned to have a lower oxygen content… if the air system has this kind of ingenious configuration, I can't imagine how complex the electronic system configuration is," Astrid said, striding forward to brush a bit of condensation from the glass face of a temperature gauge, "something tells me they were a bit of a cyberpunk, too."

"Hey guys," Olivia called, and Peter and Astrid turned their attention away from the airworks before them. They came to stand behind Olivia, staring in awe as she smiled smugly, pointing to the single square of a room on the map behind the glass case on the wall, marked _Systems Control, Main_, "…care to find out?"

"If I can get in there and access some of the security systems, we can find Walter, I'm sure of it," Astrid said, "look around and see if you can find anything to write on or with, so we can copy this down-"

There was the deafening crash of glass as Peter drove his elbow into the protective pane covering the posted map. "Peter!" Olivia exclaimed as glass shards spilled across the cement floor at their bare feet.

Peter pulled the map from its place against the wall, rolling it up and handing it to Astrid, "I'm a pretty lazy guy. And vandalism comes easy to me," he added, with a wink to Olivia.

For a moment, she smiled in admiration.

Astrid was studying the map, "Okay, this way…" and she lead them off down a corridor of pipes and fans. Olivia stumbled a bit as her leg twinged with pain, and almost immediately, Peter's arm encircled her waist in support. She glanced at him and warning, and finally conceded to put her arm across his shoulders. Both said nothing.

xXx

"Walter?"

"Let me sleep, Peter."

"Dr. Bishop."

When he opened his eyes, he was almost heartbreakingly certain that it had all been a dream, that he was back in his cell lying on his cot with the distant, cold glow of a lifeless machine. That there had never been any silent conversations, he had never escaped, never seen his son's face, touched his slightly stubbled cheek… that he was just a crazy old man whose delusions were getting the best of him.

But the ceiling was far too high, he could feel it. And the air was too cold… and he was soaking wet. September stood over his sprawled position on the slippery tiles of the laboratory floor, "September," Walter sighed, blinking slowly, "…are you going to shoot me again?" his brain felt hot and strangely numb, as if a large voltage had passed through it while he was unaware. Walter shifted the position of his sore skull against the floor, and felt a hot liquid spill across his forehead and dribble into his eye. It made his dim vision sparkle slightly as he looked back and fourth to the ruins of the equipment, scattered across the wet floor around him.

"The wound in your head has cauterized itself, and with the help of the chip, you should heal rapidly. It was necessary to insert a cerebral bore before activating the recall sequence," September explained shortly. After a few minutes of silent contemplation, he added, "I aborted the recall sequence prematurely."

"Thank you."

September tilted his head slightly in question.

Walter smiled slowly, his face sluggish in emotion, "I'm me, now. I can fix it all. Well, most of it, anyways… too much damage has been done for me to do it alone."

"Do you understand it all?" September asked.

"Most of it. So much of it is so crazy, September, I can't-"

"I deserve to know," September cut in, a touch of cold bitterness in his voice, "we all do, Walter."

"You do. More than I do, probably. You've shown me more mercy than I think I'll ever come to realize. But all of it is so gone, _I'm _so gone… but I promise, I promise that someday, when I realize it all, I'll tell you, and then…" Walter smiled at September again, the blood escaping the corner of his eye to run to his ear.

"Then."

"Then you can kill me. Have I ever called you Santos? Because you look an awful lot like Mister X. I realized that, just now."

"Do you know where to begin, Dr. Bishop?" September asked, bypassing the fact that his companions' brain was probably still contracting painfully with the lingering voltage of the Machine.

Walter pushed himself to a standing position, and leaned over his knees for a few moments, panting a bit before lifting himself to is feet, swaying a bit as he righted himself, glaring with determination into September's cool features. A few stumbling steps and Walter fell against a tall, burnt processor tower, and he slowly stooped, pulling up a large, steel pipe wrench, "I have a pretty good idea," Walter replied quietly.

xXx

SYSTEM REBOOT. TIME REMAINING:09:54:21


	17. Chapter 17

17.

SYSTEM REBOOT. TIME REMAINING: 09:23:23

"Jesus Christ- this place is like a labyrinth," Peter breathed as he looked over his shoulder at the distance they had traveled. His sights were cut short at an abrupt, sharp turn in the winding maze of pipes and conditioning filters, "At least I could make heads and tails of the jumbled crap downstairs, even if I couldn't see…"

Astrid blew a stray curl from her eyes in concentration, and Olivia looked down at the map her companion held, "What is it?"

"Well, we started out here, at the elevator," Astrid said, indicating on the page with her fingertip, "And we're headed here, to the central control. Now, I'm assuming that we're headed in the right direction, and should be somewhere in here…" she drew a small circle with her finger.

"You know what they say about assuming," Olivia said seriously.

"Ass out of you and me, yeah, yeah," Astrid frowned.

"Let me have a look," Peter said, extending a hand for the map.

"No," Olivia said finally.

Peter arched a brow, "Why can't I see the map?"

"Because you're a guy."

Peter gave a snort of laughter, massaging his temples with his fingertips, "You know what? I really don't care if that was a joke or not."

"I wish we had Walter," Astrid said glumly.

"What the hell makes you think that blind old bastard would know anything more about our situation than we do?" Peter pointed out, "Personally, I'm not putting much stalk in him, and you two had better step to the same tune."

"Walter obviously knows more about this place than we do," Olivia said reasonably, "He's been here a lot longer, there's no doubt."

"Yes, and he also said he'd never made it _out_. And even if he did, he's way too far into left field to remember it. The man's insane-"

"Your confidence in my navigational ability is staggering," Walter frowned from behind him, making Peter jump.

"_Jesus Christ_!" Peter gasped, as if he had been plunged into ice water, "_Don't freaking do that_! No human being is that quiet!"

"Walter!" Astrid exclaimed, rushing forward to throw her arms around him, "Are you alright? What happened? Where were you?"

Heat touched his face behind the bandages that covered his eyes, "…You were worried?"

"Of course we were worried! We were just on our way to central control to see if we could gain access to find you," Astrid said, taking his hand to lead him forward a few steps, "We said we were all getting out of here, remember?"

"Central control?"

"Yes. Do you know anything about it?" Olivia questioned keenly.

"Um," Walter said, "…That's where I was going, actually."

"Why?" Peter asked, eyeing the pipe wrench at his father's side, "And what's with the sidearm, soldier? Planning on any bludgeoning, eh?"

"Oh," Walter lifted the tool slightly, as Astrid and Olivia looked at Peter with alarm, "Um, no."

"What's going on, Walter?" Astrid said, her brows furrowing, "What happened, and who was that bald guy?"

"Who, Santos? An old friend. I don't want to talk about it. Central control is up ahead, if you're still interested. Oh, and Peter… don't curse. You're better than that." Walter lead the way cautiously, ignoring any more questions directed toward him.

xXx

"Why is it that the only doors in this place seem to be the ones directly leading to the cells?" Olivia asked. She refrained from referring to them as 'our cells', as the passage of time since they had escaped from the dark made the hellish place seem more like a nightmare than anything else.

Walter muttered something about a peeve and the color white, as much of his response was an inaudible growling, "Well, there you have it," Peter said with bright sarcasm.

They suddenly came upon a fork in the narrow, twisting maze of piping, and Walter stood at the thresholds of each, looking bewildered.

"Walter?" Astrid questioned.

"Shh," He responded, and proceeded to take a deep inhale in each direction, analyzing carefully, "No dice," he said at last, "all I can smell is you lot. And me, I'm still bleeding. That really deters me…"

"Why we're depending on the human bat and not on the damn map is beyond me," Peter scoffed.

"Would you kindly shut your trap?!" Walter snapped, and Peter looked slightly taken aback, "If my nose fails me, I assure you that my ears will not!"

"Of course!" Peter snapped back, "Because you emit a series of clicking noises that allow you to traverse without the use of eye sight!"

"Peter, Shut up!" Olivia and Astrid cried together.

"Fine!" Peter huffed, intent on getting the last word. They were silent for a few moments, hoping in vain to hear something that perhaps Walter did not.

Walter slowly swayed from one foot to the other, his breath still in his lungs, before his attention immediately snapped to the left, "This way," he said, fairly sprinting in the direction, "Quickly!"

Peter and Olivia both looked at each other, seeming impressed, "Isn't he amazing?" Astrid beamed, before the three jumped in alarm as there was a loud crash and a cry.

"There's a door there!" Walter hissed, rolling on his back as he clutched his throbbing skull, "You just _had _to say something about doors!"

"Central control!" Olivia exclaimed from the label on the door as she helped Walter to his feet. He swayed and looked nauseous as he supported himself against the wall.

"It's got a-" Astrid started, before Peter took the pipe wrench from his father and smashed off the flimsy bolt lock.

"It's got a what, now?" Peter questioned with a grin, resting the tool across his shoulders.

"Vandal," Astrid smirked, pushing past him and into the room. The rest followed suit, but not before Walter had taken back his pipe wrench from Peter.

Computer screens lined the walls, dozens of images and bits of recorded coding flashing from one to the next. A single chair sat in the center of the room, surrounded with a cagework of panels and keyboards, "What the hell is all of this?" Peter whispered.

"What are we looking at?" Walter questioned to Olivia, who shrugged him off.

"There must be dozens of information storing processors running to all of these," Astrid said, awed, "who was running all of this?"

"I don't know," Olivia said, approaching the chair to touch one of the keyboards lightly, "But it doesn't matter. Astrid, you have to do something."

"What's that?" Astrid asked.

Olivia lifted the headset from its draped place on the back of the chair, tossing it to her, "get me a way to send a message out of here."

Astrid smiled, bouncing into the chair and tucking the earpiece against her head, "I'll see what I can do."

"Um," Walter said quietly, beginning to feel his way around the room.

"I don't know what good that's going to do us," Peter said, standing behind Astrid's chair to gaze up at the screens, "even if we _do_ get word out to somebody- which is relatively unlikely, as we're pretty far under ground- how are we going to tell them where we are, when we _don't know_?"

"The government isn't as stupid as they seem," Olivia answered, "No matter how far down we are, they can get a location, providing we can get a strong enough, long enough signal out."

"Which might prove a problem," Astrid said, "sorry, but I've been trying what I can, and the system just won't let me in…"

"Let me have a go?" Walter questioned.

"What are you doing?" Astrid demanded as he took command of the keyboards, "Walter, how do you know about all of this?!"

"It doesn't matter," he said quickly, "was there a number you needed to connect to, Olivia?"

Bewildered, Olivia recited the number she had memorized, "My partner," she said, "Charlie Francis. He'll know what to do."

"It's transmitting. I'll keep it going for as long as I can," Astrid said as Walter returned control of the keyboard, "good job, Walter…"

"Partner, huh?" Peter said, and Olivia looked up at him.

"He's _just _my partner," She explained, "But I'd trust Charlie with my life. And, well, I guess I am, now-"

There was a horrible, sharp, shattering noise, drawing further attention as bright sparks spurted from the half-crushed central control console. Walter raised the pipe wrench again, driving it with all of his strength into the system mainframe once more.

"Walter, what the hell are you doing?!" Peter demanded as the hazardous bashing continued, "Stop it!" he rushed forward, grabbing him by the arms to still his destructive motions and begin wrestling the tool from him, "let go!"

"I've got to end it! I've got to destroy it!" Walter cried.

"Stop it!" Peter commanded.

"The system!" Astrid exclaimed, "Oh my god- the system's clearing itself! Walter, what did you do?!"

Peter had at last pried the pipe wrench from his grip and pinned him to the floor, crushing his elbow between his shoulders painfully. Panting softly, he looked up at her with a forlorn smile, his pale irises shimmering with tears, "I've condemned us all to being who we are."

xXx

SYSTEM

UNKNOWN FEED

_-

[\\\\1576ysysCOMMAND?CODEXlynx^8!|\\******^R3800T_R4D1C4L_SU8J3C7_1N_0RD3R_70_M41N741N_GR3473R_C0N7R0L_0V3R_4LL_C171Z3NS_7H3_R3PPR3SS10N_0F_C1V1L_L183R713S_CR3473S_1NT3LL3C7U4L_4N3S73S14_4ND_7H3_R31NF0RC3M3N7_0F_P3RF3C7_ALL3G3NC3\\?//_Y0U_C4NN07_F0RG37_WH0_Y0U_4R3/*!S0M3D4Y_Y0U_W1LL_4W4K3N_FR0M_7H3_4BYSS_T0_F1ND_7H47_R34L17Y_1S_0NLY_WH4T_Y0U_M4K3_0F_17::7H3_S4V4G3_W1LL_4W4K3N_47_L4S7}[W3_W1LL_83_0UR_0WN_S4LV4710N\\\!!!///////

***GOODBYE;-)***


	18. Chapter 18

Final Chapter.

They all stood in a semicircle around the dark ingress of the tunnel entrance, all of them thinking something entirely different from one another.

Peter, his thoughts of were he would go, after all of this ended. And if he could take his father with him. Perhaps, at last, they would go home.

Olivia, her thoughts on who was responsible for it all. Why she had been chosen was still unknown to her, unknown to all of them. How many people had died here? Who had built it, thought of it, this structure, this place that was more like hell than anywhere else she had experienced?

Astrid, her thoughts on just what had been lost. She didn't care, really. Whatever had been done to them, Walter was right- it was _wrong_. The whole place needed to be destroyed, and its secrets with it.

Walter, his thoughts on the maddening scent of something blooming that teased at his senses and fractured memories. He was grasping at anything to keep him from forgetting what he had to do… something that always seemed to allude him, as if just beyond his grasp.

Olivia was the one brave enough to speak first, "This air shaft should lead strait to the surface, right?"

"I don't know," Astrid replied quietly, "I hope so."

"But we don't know how far the climb will be, and this looks pretty narrow as it is- what if it gets too small? We could get lost or stuck," Peter said.

Walter cracked a grin, "Well… then someone will smell us, eventually. You don't have to have a nose like mine for something like that."

No one else seemed to find his sentiment worth comment.

"This place is built very strangely," Astrid said, and gave a small, melancholy snort, "not that this entire affair hasn't been strange. I can't find any way out… it's like it was built to fall into, and hide any way out. This is the only direct route I could find, with the plans we have left."

Rather than replying to a problem that was entirely of his own doing, Walter dropped to all fours, tugging his blindfold onto his forehead to peer into the inky dark, "There's a fan a few meters ahead. I may be able to dismantle it with the wrench," he said, more to himself than to anyone else. He gripped the pipe wrench in his fist and began to scurry into the ingress.

"Whoa, hold on just a damn minute," Peter growled, gripping his father by the back of the trousers and dragging him out again, "You are just way too comfortable being a freak."

"He's right. We need a plan, Walter," Olivia said, and she stuck a lock of hair from her face, crossing her arms across her chest and frowning with thought.

Walter squinted in discomfort and replaced his blindfold, "And just what is there to plan, exactly?"

"He's right, too," Astrid sighed.

"There's got to be something," Olivia said, "some plan, some where. I mean, the first rule of infiltration is knowing where you're going… we can't go in blind. No offense," she added quickly, and Walter frowned.

"I'm not blind," he grumbled.

"And isn't the first rule of _escaping_ to _run away_?" Peter pointed out.

"And I suppose you've got plenty of experience with running," Olivia smirked.

"I have to keep my girlish figure somehow," Peter replied with a grin.

Astrid only rolled her eyes. She paused, looking around, "Um, Walter…?"

There was a loud clattering from deep within the air vent, and a distant call, "I can't hold this thing forever!"

"So no plan," Olivia frowned.

"The man doesn't have a clue, why in the hell would he have a plan?" Peter muttered, starting for the opening.

xXx

Astrid could remember playing in the rain drains and pipes off the side of the road as a child and where she had grown up, in Jersey. Looking back, it had never been the best idea, as the pipes and such had been terribly dangerous for any number of reasons, but as most children never heeded their parents obligatory warnings (what did adults know?), she had gone with her friends to explore them one day. True to the diminished sense of direction children had, she had become hopelessly lost, and had sat shivering and crying until a policeman had come across her, taking her by the hand and leading her out to her angry and terrified parents.

"Oh, mama," Astrid said under her breath, her eyes shut tightly in the dark, "why can't I ever learn…?"

The tunnel was tall enough to warrant a crouched sort of walk, as if in a combat situation. Her knees were growing sore and painful from the strain, and her legs were trembling in exhaustion. Her fingers, wet with sweat, gripped the back hem of Walter's shirt tightly.

A few yards behind them, Peter and Olivia made slow progress, every now and again calling up for Walter to halt in his navigation. Astrid and Walter would stop and wait for them to catch up, saying nothing and listening to each other.

Once in a while the ceiling would drop down, the narrow flue only big enough to scramble through on one's belly. But slowly, the tunnel would open up again, forking right and left, and Walter would wordlessly choose the path in the dark, no explanation to his actions offered.

Astrid was grateful, her eyes shut as she concentrated solely on breathing.

"Walter!" Olivia called up.

Walter immediately sat, Astrid running into the back of his shoulders. They were damp and trembling. Astrid touched the back of his neck and his hair, and found a seat beside him. She smeared sweat from her brow with her forearm.

"What are you going to do, when you get out?" Walter asked quietly.

Astrid didn't answer for a few moments, "I don't know."

"Do you have… anyone?"

"My mom. Mittens, my cat. The people in my church. What are you going to do?"

Walter, too, was silent. "Fix them," he said at last.

"Fix what?"

"My mistakes. I'm allergic to cats."

Astrid chuckled, "Nice."

There was a soft shuffling, and Astrid could hear the offset breathing of Peter and Olivia as they neared. Astrid tried her best not to flinch away as Olivia's fingers touched the side of her head, "Hey, guys," She said in a weary tone, "Sorry for the hold up, my legs are just killing me."

"Walter, we need to rest," Peter said, "If we get too exhausted, we'll start taking up too much oxygen, and we don't know how much we have in here."

"Alright," Walter replied, and there was a shifting, "I don't know where the hell I'm going anyways," he joked.

xXx

_1,564, 1,565, 1566, 1,567..._

Something touched her shoulder in the dark, and on instinct she turned her face toward it, "What?" Olivia asked.

"Oh," Peter exclaimed, "Hey. Sorry. Is it your watch?"

"Yeah. You should get back to sleep, your shift is up next," Olivia felt his movement as he leaned back against the wall beside her.

"In a bit," he sighed.

…_1,579, 1,580, 1,581, 1,582..._

"Are you going to take me in, when we get out of here?" Peter asked after a silence, "I mean, I wouldn't blame you, but…"

_…1,587, 1,588, 1,589..._

"No," Olivia replied at last.

"Thanks," Peter replied. She could somehow see his smug smile in her mind's eye, and she frowned.

"It's not because I think you're a good guy," Olivia grumped.

"Oh? Then why are you letting me off?"

It was dark, he couldn't see her features redden, "Someone's got to look after Walter," She said finally.

"Yet you think I'm a good _enough_ guy to look after a total stranger that may or may not be biologically affiliated with me?" Peter questioned, "there are holes in your sentiments, agent Dunham."

"There's gonna be a hole in your _head_, if you don't shut your trap," Olivia snapped.

"There's your arrogant cop coming out again," Peter warned, "it's not very attractive."

"And why should I care?" Olivia retorted sharply, "You hate cops."

"I don't hate _you_. And only the _cop_ is unattractive," Peter clarified.

"So you're saying I'd be hot if I weren't a cop?" Olivia sneered.

"Nope. Because it's that completely unattractive cop thing that makes you hot," Peter replied, a smile in his voice.

There was a brief silence, the only sound the soft breathing of their two sleeping companions. "I don't know if I should thank you or kick you in the head," Olivia said at last.

"I have that effect," Peter said, "but it usually leads to but one end."

"And what's-" Olivia's words stilled in her mouth, his touch tracing the line of her jaw in the dark, creeping behind her ear to pull her in for a kiss.

_…1,607, 1,60...1,60, 1...1..._

xXx

There was a loud, rumbling noise that seemed to shake the tunnel, impeding the group's progress and they froze in fear. The sound faded as Walter asked, with a bit of a squeak in his voice, "What the hell was that?!"

They waited, nearly breathless. Astrid stayed close at Walter's shoulder, and Olivia slowly reached out to take a hold of Peter's hand. He squeezed it comfortingly in response.

Another rush overtook them, echoing against the cement. Astrid balked in sudden realization- "Guys… that's a _car_."

"What?!" Walter demanded.

"We're under a damn road! We're at the surface!" Astrid cried, "Walter, go! The exit's gotta be around here some place!"

Walter paused, inhaling. Sweat. Breath. Blood. Grass. Blooms, of some sweet, familiar kind.

Asphalt.

They crept along faster, now, hopes and strength renewed. Each rush of wheels some distance above them was greeted with cheers and laughter, until Astrid gave a small cry as a spider's web caught her face. She opened her eyes, suddenly dazed at the brilliance of sunlight through a round, portal-shaped grate overhead.

A few yards ahead, a narrow, flat incline lead out of the drainage ditch on the side of a long, flat stretch of highway, a long, black scar on the landscape surrounded with blooming fields of white clover. The artificial wash was cluttered with weeds and a few pieces of garbage, but the obstructions were quickly pushed aside. Slowly, cautiously, they emerged from the tunnel, eyes stinging in the noon sun, and at last they stood on the hot asphalt, stinging against their bare feet.

"We're out," Olivia whispered, as if daring to believe it.

"We're alive!" Astrid cried happily.

Peter only shut his eyes and nodded, swallowing back a lump in his throat. Olivia threw her arms around him and cried into his neck.

"This place is so surreal," Astrid said, gazing around, "It's… beautiful." She looked up, "Walter…?"

Walter stood in the clover, his arms folded calmly behind his back as he seemed to look through his blindfold up, furrowing his brows at the scattered bits of cloud against a perfect sky. Astrid touched his shoulder, concerned, "I'll wake up, soon," Walter murmured softly.

Astrid smiled, shaking her head, "You won't, Walter. We did it, we made it. Hand to God."

"I don't believe in God," Walter replied quietly. He chuckled, and it sounded tired and without mirth, "I don't believe in God, and I'm allergic to cats. I just don't know how we'll make this work, miss."

Astrid took his hand, "Come on, Walter," she said, giving his arm a tug, and Astrid reached up to touch his cheek. Walter flinched away, at first, as she chuckled, "I owe you this." Astrid leaned up to give him a kiss.

They sat and waited a half an hour for the black FBI vans to arrive, and Charlie Francis only stared at the odd group in bewilderment, "'You folks lost?" he joked.

xXx

END.


	19. Epilouge

*Epilogue.

A light blue Station Wagon clattered and banged to a halt on the dirt road, set into such a noisy frenzy by the round, smooth river stones that littered the road. The engine sputtered and died, and Peter Bishop climbed out of the driver's seat, kicking the door shut.

Olivia Dunham crossed her arms across her chest and shook her head with a smile, "Nice wheels," she teased.

"Yeah, it's pretty sweet," Peter chuckled, stooping to give her a quick kiss and squeeze her elbow, "How's it going?"

"Where's Walter?" Olivia asked.

"As unbelievable as it sounds, he's asleep in the car," Peter shook his head, "But he's cutting it down. He only does thirty-three hour days, and sleeps about ten. Between the nightmares and the closet time."

"I know the feeling," Olivia nodded, "so he's doing better?"

"A bit. What about you?"

"I still sleep with the lights on and the door open."

This was not a joke, and Peter sighed quietly, putting an arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head.

"We've got a lead on one company that apparently received a substantial grant from a private source to work on an experiment that nearly echoed Walter's theories," Olivia continued.

"What company?" Peter asked.

"That's what's crazy. Massive Dynamic."

Peter's eyes widened, "Massive Dynamic's huge. Why would they need private sourcing?"

"It's not usually traceable, but what threw up a red flag was that it was granted to _Walter,_ in the name of _Glassmouth_." Olivia and Peter began to walk toward the rented weekend cabin, "I don't know what the hell it means."

Peter shook his head, "We'll figure it out later. You're on leave, for now- let's try to enjoy it like the doctor ordered, okay?" he smiled, and stilled her to give her another kiss.

xXx

Astrid cursed, and plunged the mason jar into the clear, icy water of the creek. She exclaimed as she scooped up a few tadpoles, examining them closely through the glass. One already had back legs-

She looked up as footsteps crushed the twigs behind her, and she smiled at the approaching stranger, shifting her footing in the water as her toes began to grow numb.

"Kitty's catching some fish?" Walter questioned with a smirk, his gaze lost behind dark sunglasses.

"Hey, Walter," Astrid beamed, holding up the jar, "Just tadpoles. Want to help?"

"Yep," he replied, and plopped down on the bank to remove his shoes and cuff his slacks up to his knees.

He was rolling up his sleeves when Astrid stilled him, "Whoa. Impressive job on the tan, Walter."

"I've been working on it," he replied, seeming pleased, "when the sun isn't terribly unpleasant." He still retained a certain paleness to his skin, but it was no longer as noticeable. He waded out into the creek to Astrid, stooping to peer into the water.

"How's the job search going?" Astrid asked as they searched.

Walter frowned, "My psychiatrist says I can't handle the stress, but I applied for nocturnal studies at the zoo anyways, don't tell Peter."

Astrid chuckled, "Mum's the word. My psychiatrist say's I can't go back to work yet, either."

They were quiet for a while, until Walter plunged his arm into the water, scooping up a tadpole to wriggle in his fingers, "The jar! The jar!" he cried.

"I'm trying!" Astrid exclaimed, scrambling to open the jar. It spilled open, drenching the side of Walter's leg, and he gave a cry, the tadpole shooting from his grip. He stumbled forward to grab for it, and lost his footing, falling into the water, "Walter!" Astrid cried.

He emerged sputtering and shivering in the cold, shaking the wet from his face. He searched about for his sunglasses in the drink, and at last jammed them onto his face to hide his sensitive irises, "The one that got away?" he questioned.

Astrid laughed, and offered him a hand up, "Let's get you dry before you catch a cold," she said.

xXx

*Epilogue: END.

"_A great deal of intelligence can be invested in ignorance, when the need for illusion is deep."_

~Saul Bellow


End file.
